


The Soft Glowing Light From the Sky

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [37]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, FP is a good dad, First Meeting, Forbidden Love, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Mind Reading, Protective Betty, Riverdale AU, Twilight AU, bughead - Freeform, human jughead, meet cute, pining Jughead, pining betty, powers, reggie & juggie friendship, riverdale is forks, the serpents are the werewolves, twilight twilight twilight, vampire betty, vampire cheryl, werewolf toni
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:19:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 89,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: Jughead moves to Riverdale to be with his dad.Betty's moved there for the lack of sunlight.The Twilight AU everyone secretly wanted.





	1. The Grey Place

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot express enough how much this story is for/was inspired/prompted/dreamt up/planned by HufflepuffBetty. Seriously, any of the good or cool stuff tagged is stuff she came up with.
> 
> She is an amazing person, and a hugely talented beta and I'm so happy I know her and this story is for her because she's just the most wonderful bean in the world. 
> 
> I hope all of you
> 
> Enjoy!

Riverdale is just as grey and depressing as his mom had said it would be. 

He wants her to be wrong, because he hates her. He does. She's a horrible, awful, vile woman and she shouldn't be a mother. He doesn't want anything she's said to be right. But as he rests his head against the slimy, cold window of the bus as it chugs along dreary roads, he can't help but think how  _sad_ this place looks. A quick google search had revealed it gets the barest amount of sunlight, and it's not even that Jughead likes being active all that much (in fact, it's quite the opposite) but he does like falling asleep in sunbeams and waking up to sunlit rooms. It's good for writing inspiration. Beauty is always good for writing inspiration. This place doesn't look like it'll have much of it. 

The bus stops and he steps out into a drizzly day and a sky of charcoal with heavy slate clouds. He tips his head up and lets the rain cluster to his cheeks and forehead like a damp caress. He follows the instruction on his phone and stops at a house. It's right in the middle of Riverdale, geographically, according to the map. Which Jughead supposes is a good thing for getting around. A truck is parked in the space and the house looks like all the others on the street. Each house is spaced out with overgrown ferns and very green shrubs between them, but the houses all look the same. 

It's a little bit reassuring, he supposes. He stands there, hitching his camping bag a little further up his shoulder and stares at the door. 

It opens. He freezes, breath caught in his throat at the sight of his dad. He looks so different, so different and yet just the same as Jughead remembers him. Older now, crinkles around the eyes and a beard, and maybe not as tall since he's done some growing himself. Ten years is a long time, after all. But Jughead's seventeen now, and he's...willing to try. Anything is better than his mom, after all. Maybe his dad had the right idea; leaving it all behind. It's what Jughead's done now. Maybe they're more alike than he thought. FP walks down the three, small cement steps and is staring at him with moisture glistening in his eyes. 

"Jug," he whispers, and Jughead isn't quite sure what to do before FP is striding forward and wrapping him up in a tight hug. 

It feels..nice, actually. A little bit nice. It's been so long since he's had this sort of parental contact, he gently, ever so gently, relaxes into it. His dad, fuck his  _dad,_ smells like shampoo and laundry detergent and Jughead gets the feeling he's put a lot of effort into today. He appreciates it. He's also a little bemused at the flannel his dad is wearing. it's like the flannel he likes to wear. 

"It's good to see you, boy," he whispers, leaning back and cupping the back of his skull. 

The teenager smiles, a genuine uptick of his lips. "It's good to see you too, dad," he replies honestly. FP looks so stricken by the word that he pulls Jughead in for another hug, drawing in jagged gasps of air like he's trying not to cry. He keeps staring at him like he's afraid he might disappear.

Soon he shuffles them inside, not taking his hand off his son for a moment. Either on his shoulder or his arm, or slung around him, he eases him into the house. It's a little bit flattering, kind of endearing, Jughead thinks to himself. To go from one parent who didn't give a damn, to one who's so obviously trying to make things work. "You found the place alright, then? Riverdale's small, it'll be easy once you get to know it. Uh, here's the kitchen- living room, dining room, obviously," he introduces nervously, and everything's so clean and dusted and it smells like air freshener and Jughead can feel his heart throb with fondness. Together they traipse upstairs, and the house is nice. Small but comfortable and very homey. Better than the wide open planes back in Phoenix. "I uh- I wanted you to have the master, it has an ensuite, and I'm just opposite here in the guest bedroom," FP explains, as they walk into the master. 

There's a double bed with brand new sheets, and a large window that looks out towards the forest with a window seat. There's an empty wardrobe and a desk and it's...Jughead stares, setting down his bag. "Dad," he shakes his head, "you didn't have to, this is so much-"

"No." FP insists, brown eyes warm and pleased that Jughead seems so awed. "No, I wanted you to have it. Teenagers they uh- they need a private space, right? That's what all these parenting books are saying anyway, and I only use mine to sleep so..." he shrugs, sticking his hands into his pockets and Jughead smiles again, leaning in to initiate his own hug. FP's arms are broad and strong around him. He looks a little bit like his dad, which he likes, but not enough. He's still got his mom's green eyes and slender physique. But for all his dad is broad, they've got similar faces and the same crooked smile. 

"It's amazing, dad," he says, "thanks." 

 

His dad burns lasagne for dinner, and is clearly very stressed out about the whole ordeal. He apologises countless times before Jughead takes over. He's cooked for himself pretty much his entire life and he knows his way around the kitchen. The fridge reveals that his father previously consisted of microwave meals and Jughead won't have that. He procures some spaghetti and a few tomatoes and attacks the spice rack with vengeance. 

Soon enough, the two of them are around the breakfast table, eating spaghetti and are pretty calm. The tv's buzzing in the background and the darkness through the windows seems to hide how grey this town is. "I didn't know you could cook," his dad says, muffled through a grateful mouthful. 

Jughead lifts his fork as a salute, chewing thoughtfully. "I learnt a while back. There's nothing I love more than food." 

FP's looking at him with such unguarded pride that it's a little weird. But still, he blossoms under the praise and attention. "I'll have to stock up on fresh ingredients then," he says softly, and Jughead nods shyly, poking at a tomato with his fork. 

That night, he decorates his room with the things he cared enough to bring. He spends a long time hanging up every plaid shirt and pair of jeans in the wardrobe. It barely takes up half the rack but he's happy to have the space. It might be nice to have a place to put down roots. Maybe he won't be running away from home every five seconds. He pairs all his socks and puts them in a drawer, his underwear in another. All his different coloured suspenders, mostly gifts from a never-ending string of his mother's boyfriends, in another one. It's soothing, to sort things like this. He hooks his beanie over the corner of the headboard and digs through his bag for the rest of his things. 

He hangs up two posters.  _Pulp Fiction_ and  _The Golem_ using non-marking tape. He dumps out the rest of his belongings onto his bed. His laptop and charger he plugs into the desk, setting his pencil case beside it and notebook too. His collection of thumb-worn books he lines neatly o the shelves. His shoes go under the desk. His satchel, he sets on the desk chair. Then he shoves his camping bag into the bottom the wardrobe and carries the rest of his stuff into the bathroom. It's a small ensuite but it's more privacy than he could have hoped for. He lays out his comb, shower gel, deodorant and razor around before stripping out of his clothes and stepping under the spray. 

The pressure isn't fantastic but the temperature is perfect. He lets the heat thaw his bones and he relaxes under the spray. It's a new life. A new start. Things can get better. Well, he reasons to himself, they can't possibly get worse. He towels himself down, brushes his teeth and staggers back into the bedroom, utterly beat. He pulls on a pair of boxers and collapses into the large bed. It's  _huge_ and the mattress is so comfortable, it too must be new. His dad is something else. 

He looks around his room before he drifts off. A little on the empty side and a little too neat for his comfort, but there's possibility there. He gazes out of the window into the green, lush forestry on the other side of the road, just before he falls asleep. 

...

...

...

They're crawling along at 160mph and Betty runs her marble hands across the smooth leather seats of their new land rover. It's nice. Spacious. Definitely one of the better parts of the new emergence of luxury vehicles. Archie's driving, and Veronica's smoking one of her lavender cigarettes again that serves to do nothing but fill their noses and irritate most of them. But Betty knows better. She can hear Jason's thoughts, and his gratitude for something that isn't the smell of blood. 

Besides, they don't need to breathe, so why Cheryl's mentally complaining so much is beyond her. The next row consists of three seats all separated by leather storage holders and fronted by built in interaction screens. Betty and Cheryl are sitting on either end, the middle seat being used for their bags, and behind them, nuzzled together; are Polly and Jason. They've been inseparable ever since Jason had been turned a few months ago. From what Betty could hear, they were soulmates. Of course, hearing it from Veronica always meant it was true. Relationship identification was a rare but incredibly useful skill. She could see the lines that ran between people, and where they ran strongest, or where they ran weakest. Betty, reading Veronica's mind, could see too. What Jason and Polly had was just the same colour and strength as what Hermione and Fred had, and what Veronica and Archie had. Something real and lifelong. Or eternal, rather. 

 _This is a mistake. This is a mistake. It's been a fluke I've been able to keep control so long, I should be at home._ Jason's chanting whilst kissing Polly and Betty resists the very human urge to sigh. If he was going to make a mistake, Polly would have seen it and thus; Betty would have seen it. As it stands, it seems to be a fairly typical day. 

"Okay, Veronica, enough with the flower smoke." Cheryl snaps, patience coming to an end. "I've tolerated enough this morning." 

 _Someone didn't sleep on the wrong side of the bed_ Veronica thinks, but dutifully stops blowing the lavender through the car. Betty fights a small smile, but Veronica sees it in the rearview mirror anyway.  _Is Cheryl in a bad mood?_ She thinks.

Betty glances from the left window and then to the right. 

_Oh. Just a bitch as usual then?_

Another smile. 

Veronica grins at her and they share a moment.  _Her strongest bond is still to you but something's developing to Jason. Do you think it's because she found him?_

Betty stares at the roof of the car and then at her shoes. 

_Probably because she saved him. Whatever. She's a drama queen. I'll see you at lunch, yeah B? We can practise our not eating._

The blonde vampire half smiles, turning to look out the window at the scenery whirling past. Veronica's not a young vampire, but she's not the oldest, being made only a few years after Betty, but she's taken to it brilliantly. 'Saved" Jason, though? Is that what Veronica thinks Cheryl did? Save Jason? Betty remembers watching as Cheryl flew into the house, wide eyed and trembling, cradling the man in her arms. He'd been savaged badly, but somehow she'd resisted the blood. Hermione had changed him and they'd all waited with baited breath to see if this was going to be Cheryl's soulmate. Finally. But it wasn't. He and Polly had been connected the second his eyes had opened and Betty had been forced to witness the tremendous loneliness that had shaken through the beautiful redhead. 

It's ironic, she thinks. That the most beautiful vampire of all should be alone. But Cheryl had felt something with Jason. Their scents are fairly similar. Betty wonders perhaps if Jason is a descendant of Cheryl's original bloodline. 

The pull into the parking lot for another wonderfully grey day and Betty purposely smiles as brightly as she can before hooking her arm through Cheryl's. "Hey, pretty," she offers, and Cheryl rolls her eyes in mild disgust as her heels click against the tarmac. "You okay?" 

"Why ask?" The scarlet-lipped goddess chirps. "You can just read my mind." She unhooks their arms, clearly in a mood. Betty frowns, and her eyes meet with Jason's. 

He smiles at her, and extends a little calming aura over them all. Most of them don't notice, but Cheryl's shoulders relax marginally. Betty mouths a quick thanks, before heading off to her own class. 

She ignores the looks that she gets. They've been going here for about two years now and it's been enough time for most people to stop gawking. She's the friendliest of the group, that's for sure. Closely followed by Archie, but still, it doesn't matter how much she smiles or how nice she is, there's something about being a  _vampire_ that creeps the humans out. Something they can't identify, the brilliant predator-prey instinct, telling them that it isn't right to get too close. There are some things beauty can't eclipse, she supposes. 

She sits down in English class and ignores the snide remark the teacher thinks about her in his head. Why does everyone seem to hate it if someone else knows more than them? A sweet girl named Ethel takes the seat beside her, and Betty smiles. But it's then that she notices that Ethel's thoughts, along with a lot of other people in the class, seem to be stuck on the new kid. She gets a glean of him through their memories. Dark blue hair and pale skin. Tall and lanky and wearing  _suspenders._ Interesting enough and attractive enough to garner attention for today, she supposes. 

Ethel's thoughts, always lovely to listen to, not snide and backhanded like most people, are what draw her in.  _He smiled at me. He actually smiled at me. I love him- do I love him? No. No, but he did smile at me._ Betty watches the memory, of this Jughead asking where a room is and Ethel pointing him in the right direction. He had smiled at her, genuine and handsome, and Betty pressed her lips together at how adorable the pounding of Ethel's heart was. Maybe it would be more adorable if it didn't remind her of the lovely blood coursing through Ethel's body, but- she's fed recently, and she'd be fine. 

On that note, she locates Jason's mind, but he's sitting in a classroom and he's doing just fine. He's too hard on himself. 

The girl in front of her twists around to hand the essays back and Betty's careful not to let their skin touch before finding her own in the pile.  _Betty Cooper 100% as usual_ it reads passive aggressively. She hands the stack to the person behind her and tries not to be too pleased.

The rest of the day continues normally and she walks into biology, pleased that this is taught by one of the few teachers who actually admire intelligent students and she takes her usual desk by herself. It's an odd numbered class and she gets to be by the window; admiring the anthill just outside instead of listening to the same lesson for the four hundredth time. And then it happens. The most innocuous, unimaginable, life altering thing in the world:

Jughead Jones walks in the door. 


	2. The Gold Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead have the misfortune of meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, pretties!

Riverdale High is both like his old Highschool but also not. 

For one thing, people are taking the time of day to stare at him, which he finds a bit weird. But it is a small town, so he supposes, they don't get to see much. Besides, most people seem to be fairly nice. When the lunch bell rings, he grimaces, wondering what the hell kind of social pariah dictatorship will be run there. Maybe he shouldn't go to the canteen. Maybe he can get his lunch and and eat in the bathroom, hidden in a cubicle. But then a girl with very curly hair that he recognises from his morning waves at him. "Hey, Jughead!" She calls, and he moves over to her, slightly reassured.

"Hey Ethel," he remembers, and she beams at him. She's got nice amber curls that bounce around her ears when she walks. "I'm dreading whatever lunch is going to be like." He confesses, eying the door to the canteen. 

Ethel laughs like he's hilarious. "It's pretty straightforward," she assures. "Think normal Highschool rankings with a few cliques here and there." She reaches forward to touch his arm. "You could probably be higher on the rung than us." She confesses.

"Muggs is right," comes a voice, and Jughead turns to see a tall, broad shouldered, vaguely asian looking boy with his arm hanging over a girl with ebony skin with a weirdly shaped alice band. 'You're more than welcome to sit with us at the not-a-loser table." Continues the deep voice.

For some reason, Jughead doesn't hate him. Whether it's because this guy is nothing compared to actual bullies he's encountered, or because of the way he's speaking when he's so obviously enamoured with the petite woman beside him. "I'm probably suited to it," he says, standing firmly beside Ethel. "Us losers will rise up and have a revolution." 

The black girl laughs, and she elbows her boyfriend in the ribs. "You're more than welcome to sit with us. Ethel too." She agrees, and begins to walk towards the canteen. The three of them follow in tow. "I'm Josie, that's Reggie. You're Jughead Jones, right? I honestly thought the name was a joke when I first heard it." 

Jughead looks around the canteen and is relatively relieved to see that Ethel wasn't wrong. It does seem fairly normal. Students and laughter and gossip as the general hubbub. "Word sure travels fast here," he murmurs, hunching a little when a few girls from a table over giggle at him. Why the fuck everyone is looking at him is beyond him. It's setting him on edge. He prefers to travel neatly under the radar. The tall boy beside him recognises his discomfort.

Reggie flips the girls the bird. "He's not a piece of meat!" He yells jestingly and the girls roll their eyes and turn away. Jughead blinks in surprise, and Reggie just grins at him. "Got your back, bro." He says, offering his hand for a fist bump.

The beanie-wearing teenager eyes it but leaves it hanging. "Didn't you just five minutes ago call Ethel a loser?" 

"Muggs knows I didn't mean it, didn't ya?" He asks Ethel, but she ignores him and picks up a sausage roll to add to her tray. "Anyway, the girls at this school are vultures, let me tell you. You're... _okay_ , in a lanky shit kind of way." He says, looking Jughead up and town. "You've got that attractive nerd thing going on which chicks seem to dig." He pokes Jughead's cheek and Jughead grumbles, flushing as he loads his tray full of random food. But deep down he's relieved. Reggie's an easy going kind of guy, friendly when he's not being proactively hostile.

Josie leads them over to an empty table that makes Jughead think that there are reserved places and they all sit down. "It's a small town," Josie begins, picking daintily at her salad. "A new person moving in is a big deal. Especially as FP's son." 

Jughead looks up from his burger. Ethel's beside him and Reggie and Josie sit opposite. "You guys know my dad?" He asks, scrunching his nose up in confusion.

"Everyone knows your dad," Josie says smartly. "He's pretty much the only guy in town who does construction for cheap. He's helped everyone out one time or another, North and South alike. And I shouldn't even be telling you this, right," Josie begins, leaning in and they all do the same. "But a few months ago, there were a  _ton_ of murders just outside of town. Your dad helped out at the station when they were short staffed. And they were short staffed. I mean  _no one_ wanted to investigate these murders. Apparently they'd just been totally butchered." 

Jughead's frowning when a new guy sits down at the table. He's got shapely eyebrows and a large forehead. "Josie, are you telling people the  _confidential_ facts I told you?" He says, but he doesn't sound at all annoyed. He's introduced as Kevin and they all start chatting amongst themselves as Jughead mulls it all over.  _In Cold Blood_ is one of his favourite novels, and the idea of being able to study murders in articles is appealing a sensibility in him that he's not so keen to share with the group of people who are being surprisingly friendly to him. 

A weird, prickling feeling crawls down his neck. The kind that lets you know you're being watched, and he turns curiously, only to freeze as his eyes skitter over a table in the dark corner of the cafeteria.  _Jesus._ What the hell- he finds the eyes that were watching him. Betty Cooper, who he's just had the displeasure of meeting in biology. "Hey guys," he murmurs, cutting over their conversation. "Who are they?" He gestures with his head, "and why is the blonde glaring death rays at me?" 

Instead of laughing, everyone at the table drops their voice and Kevin leans forward eagerly. "Those are the Andrews kids." He announces, as if it's a huge deal.

"They're really fucking weird." Reggie interjects blithely, and even Ethel nods a little bit. Jughead hums, he doesn't disagree with their take so far.

Kevin snaps his fingers so the attention is back on him. "So," he whispers, even though the 'Andrews' kids are way on the other side of the cafeteria. "Fred Andrews is the doctor down at the hospital, he and his wife basically adopted all those kids. And it's  _freaky._ They like- date each other and apparently and if you ever talk to them, it's like they've been dating for _years._  Mr Andrews even practises his weird medicine on them; that's why they're all so creepy and pale and perfect. He's always just pulling them out of school for weeks at a time to go on 'holidays' but they're being taken to hospitals in Japan for experimental procedures." Reggie shuddered visibly opposite him. "The girl with red hair is Cheryl, she's a straight up killer. I mean, sure, she's a fashion icon, but she's like the devil incarnate. Never ever go near her. Veronica and Archie, Jason and Polly, are all dating and that's...it's just gross. It's incesty."

"Which one's Veronica?" Jughead asked, shooting another glance over his shoulder. Betty was now turned away from him. He can see the golden-spun honey of her hair.

"Raven hair with the pearls." Kevin continues. "Then the two blondes are Betty and Polly. Polly's dating Jason and-"

"I met Betty in Biology," Jughead informs them. "She's horrible." 

That earns him a series of stunned looks. "Really?" Ethel frowns, "Betty's one of the really nice ones."

Jughead snorts, rolling his eyes. "She was the opposite of nice, Ethel. One of those popular rich kids that feel entitled to everything. I met enough of those back in Phoenix." He took a large bite of his hamburger and Reggie side-eyed him with an appraising look. "I mean, the fact that they've been adopted is- are you sure it's not fostered? Maybe their lives have been rough but..." he resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder again, but he could feel the prickle of eyes on him. "They seem entitled and privileged to me." 

Kevin shook his head, "definitely not fostered. They have a new car like every month though, they're  _insanely_ rich and they live way out in this specially made mansion-house in the forest. Stay away, that's what my dad says." He waits a beat. "And he's the Sheriff." 

"I was actually planning on becoming their new best friend." He retorts dryly and Reggie laughs, banging his fist against the table. Conversation goes on, and he can't help but sneak another look over his shoulder. Betty's eyes are on him again. He remembers her eyes. The greeny-blue that had bored into him the second he'd sat at the desk. The way she'd lurched away from him like he had something she was in danger of catching. Like he was  _beneath_ her. Unfortunately it wasn't quite enough to detract from the effortless beauty of her. Her sweeping blonde hair and gorgeous figure- he'd never been so attracted to a girl in all of his life. 

Girls back in Phoenix were all tall, tanned and sporty. Betty was...classical in a way he found decidedly aesthetic. Her blouse was a satin blue tucked into a sheer white pencil skirt that showed her long, slim legs but the outfit overall was still gorgeously modest. Unfortunately her grating questions and lack of tact, her snotty attitude and disregard for his opinions, all scored against her. Whoever the Andrews were, creepy and ethereally  _white_ as they seemed, Jughead was pretty sure he could steer clear for the time being. 

"Anyway, Jones," Reggie calls, disrupting his thought process. "We're going to Seaside after school if you wanna come. Ethel too," he tipped his head at her and Ethel beamed. "It's fairly chill, just skimming rocks and catching freshmen making out for the first time?" 

Definitely not like Phoenix. He'd never made friends this quickly. Especially ones that seemed so normal. "Uh," he flustered for a moment, "sure? I think my dad wants me to buy some stuff for my room though, it's a little empty." 

Josie clapped excitedly. "Perfect! I need an excuse to go shopping anyway. We'll head down to town first, okay?" 

He bobbed his head in a nod and nudged Ethel a little with a smile that said  _this isn't so bad, is it?_ She shook her head, curls flouncing, and he settled into his skin. 

...

...

...

 _Lust_ _bloodlust lust bloodlust lust bloodlust_ churned like an insane mantra in Betty's head and she clenched her fingers into the wood under the desk. It gave way under her strength and the shavings fell to the floor. She shoved at them with her foot, scattering them and smoothed out the grooves she'd made. She tried not to breathe, tried to  _focus._ It was brilliant. It was just her luck. Everything that Fred and Hermione had worked hard for. Their whole way of life ruined by this...this fucking  _silent_ enigma. 

 _Focus on the lust, not the bloodlust_ she tried to force herself, even though all she saw behind closed eyelids was his corpse; drained and delicious. He was attractive, attractive in a way that the glimpses of him she'd seen through other people's memories hadn't done him justice. They'd dulled him. Dulled the vibrancy of his shamrock eyes. They'd conceived his hair as black, but their human eyes had failed to see the strands of darkest blue, midnight blue that flopped into his forehead. A perfectly symmetrical face with sharp cheek bones but a lopsided smile. Her eyes drifted to the long, smooth lines of his throat and suddenly she wondered whether she could kill everyone in this room with enough time to get away. Snap the necks of the eight people behind her, moving across the classroom before they even had time to blink. It would be a rush to those at the door then, but those in the middle would have realised. There'd be screaming and-

 _Betty! Betty, are you okay?_ Polly's voice screams in her head, and she's jolted into reality. She heads into Polly's mind and sees the subjective future her sister's just seen. Police and getaway cars in the dead of night, Betty; alight with red eyes and dejectedness. The sight of her like that gives her some resolve, and she angles her face away, taking a deep breath as controlled as she can that doesn't have his scent.  _Okay. Okay good, well done!_ Polly chirps,  _it's going away! Maybe you should head home early? Take Jason back with you?_

She can't exactly reply, but she does think about it. Meanwhile, Jughead settles better onto the stool beside her, completely unaware to the crippling amount of danger he's in. She tries to focus on his outfit. The dark blue jumper over a plaid shirt and the suspenders hanging down around the knees off his jeans. It's an unusual way to dress, that's for sure, but it suits him. She wonders if anything wouldn't suit him. He's a human being. A person. She just has to make him a person and she won't want to kill him. His blood though-  _god his blood_ it smells better than anything. It makes the venom in her mouth surge over her tongue in preparation. His name. He needs to be a person. "Jughead Jones." She manages, and he blinks at her in surprise, nodding. She can see his pupils dilate and it doesn't surprise her. Most humans finds their kind beautiful. It's one of their adaptations. It makes his pulse quicken though, and Betty could do without that. 

"Uh yeah," he nods. She wonders why the hell she can't read his mind, but it isn't bothering her as much as the scent of him right now. "And you're..."

"Betty Cooper." She says, and unfortunately, that's the last of her air. 

He smiles at her, a little shyly, and starts opening his books. "Nice to meet you. Your biology facilities are really nice, actually. This doesn't seem like a place that would have pretty good equipment but," he shrugs, "I'm pleasantly surprised. Might even become a Riverdale convert." 

She nods, but can't do much else. She can't speak without breathing in and she's not sure she's strong enough to do so now that he's actually angled towards her. 

"Have you uh..." he blushes and all she can think about is the blood coursing just beneath his skin. "Lived here long?" 

She turns away from him, facing the window and waiting for an opportunity. One comes a few minutes later, when a group of late-students come inside and the breeze of the door wafts the air of the window into a current. She draws in a deep breath, blissfully, and tries to relax. The venom recedes. But when she turns back to Jughead, he's now away from her and writing in his book. A quick glance at his answers show that he's smart. Smart enough to be here in the advanced class, unlike most of his peers. Mr Drakker comes over and stops by their desk, and Betty offers her brightest smile. "Jughead, Betty," he greets amiably, and Jughead looks up from his notes. "Jughead, I hear you were one of the best in your year in your previous school. Do you think you'll be able to jump right in?"

Betty watches as he spins his pencil in his hands nervously. "Uh, probably- maybe. I should be able to." He nods, bobbing his head and swallowing thickly. She tries not to watch the line of his throat. "I'll be fine." 

Mr Drakker smiles. "Well, it's a good thing you and Betty are paired together then. You can do all the really hard stuff," he winks at them, before heading to check on a Valerie and Melody. 

She opens her mouth to say something when Jughead drags his fingers through his hair, slightly dislodging the crown shaped beanie. She isn't sure which she feels most; lust or bloodlust, but they both flash through her body and she almost  _hates_ him in that moment. She's been so good. So controlled. So able not to mess up. She's the only one who hasn't. She's seen Cheryl, Veronica, Archie, Polly and Jason all fall off the wagon. They've all moved around over the years, but not her. She's been able to handle it, and though she knows Fred and Hermione wouldn't mind, she can't believe that this person exists to ruin her life. 

"Why did you come here?" She asks, more to herself than him, and she's a little surprised by the pure loathing in her voice. Jughead recoils from her a little, face guarded and now she hates- really hates the fact that she doesn't know what he's thinking. She's been taking it for granted, she realises, and now that it's being denied, and  _why_ she doesn't know, she's so confused. 

He shrugs, staring at his paper with a furious, tempting blush. "None of your business." He mutters. 

She almost reaches across the table in agony, but instead, makes her voice more clipped and assertive. "I said  _why."_

He looks markedly uncomfortable now, eyes scanning around the room as if for some help. She doesn't care though. Not right now. Now she just wants to know what god would create him to torment her. She wants to know why she's being tested to her limit right now and being made to contemplate the one thing she's never wanted to do. "Because," he manages evenly, "I couldn't be with my mom anymore." 

It catches her off guard. Oh.  _Oh._ Suddenly she remembers FP Jones, the nice guy who lives right on the border of the treaty. She'd seen in Jason's mind that he carried an aura of sadness, and she's trying to put the pieces together. An abusive mother, perhaps? But why isn't Jughead placing more blame onto her? He's tightly held, yes, but he seems fairly easy going in the memories of others. He does look like FP, and now she's tempted to go and read the man's mind. See if there's some connection there and- with the scents. She wants to offer some condolence but nothing comes, so she looks away. 

As soon as the bell rings she's out of the class as fast as she's able without being noticed, and she breathes in deeply. Vampires don't  _have_ to breathe, but smell is an important sense, and to be denied it can be irritating. Sure enough, Polly and Jason find her just outside in the parking lot. Now that she's smelt Jughead, she can smell exactly where he's been, and the motorbike parked in the corner is clearly his. It looks a little old, probably a gift from FP. "Are you okay, Betty?" Polly asks, touching her arm worriedly. Her pink raincoat stands out from the bleakness of the grey around them.

 _I knew I wasn't the only one with problems_ Jason thinks a little smugly, hands in his pockets, but feels appropriately guilty when Betty shoots him a glare. 

"How close was I?" She whispers in a moan, looking up at the grey sky. The wind is chilly around them but they don't feel it. 

Polly shrugs with a smile. "Not even! You were fine, I promise." She reassures, but she's under-emphasising and Betty knows it.

Betty stares at her. "I  _know_ when you're lying, Pol, you get that right?" 

Jason laughs, but they do make her feel better. They head back into class, but she stays outside, breathing in the non-Jughead air, before she hears the bell ring for lunch. What's an hour to waste, she wonders, when she's going to have eternity? 

She picks up an apple for show before sitting down at their table, when Archie lurches over to her. "Betts, Josie's talking about the murders again." He murmurs excitedly, and Betty shoots Jason a concerned look. He's staring at the plastic of his tray and looking generally despondent. Polly does her best to soothe him as Cheryl rolls her eyes, admiring herself in her small hand mirror. "Does she know anything?" He continues eagerly, and Betty reaches over for Josie's mind.

To her surprise, she sees Jughead with them. But why- Josie and Reggie don't associate with Ethel Muggs- but yes, sure enough, now _Kevin Keller_ is joining them and she wonders if when new students arrive whether status-quo is just ignored. She jumps from Josie's mind to Ethel's, because Ethel's is far more pleasing to be in, and she gets a quick filter of their interactions. Then she realises Archie is still looking at her and she hurries to answer his question. "No, they don't know anything. They're just telling Jughead how they know his father." 

"We could hear that," Cheryl snaps, applying more lipstick. "He smells good though-"

"Cheryl." Polly cuts her off warningly and Cheryl frowns, eyes darting from Polly to Polly's flitting gaze to Betty.

Cheryl smirks when she pieces it together. "Did you nearly fall off the wagon, Betty?"

They all look up in unison as they hear Kevin say _Those are the Andrews kids._ Archie whoops, settling in to hear yet another rendition of the rumours that circulate about them. Even Cheryl gets ready, and Betty's just relieved she doesn't have to answer the question. Cheryl beams over Kevin's description of her, Polly and Jason laugh over the incest remarks but at the end of it, they're all staring at Betty. "Wow," Archie frowns, and they all turn to stare at Jughead on the other side of the room His back is towards them, but he's got a distinctive heartbeat. Betty glances over too and hopes he's not looking back. Luckily, he isn't. "I've never heard of anyone not liking you, Betts." He offers, like an apology.

Cheryl looks a little bit worried too, and she eyes Betty cautiously. "Was everything alright? Should you go hunting again?"

"It's bloodlust." Jason informs them, "strongest I've detected. She wants his blood more than _I_ want blood." 

"Thanks, Jason," Betty snaps, "it would be easier if we didn't talk about this-"

"I think we should probably talk about this." Veronica pipes up, and it's the first time she's spoken all lunch. Her wide eyes, opal contacts today to hide the hazel, stare at Betty and she delves into her mind.

She can't believe what she's seeing. Her jaw drops and she stares at the table uncomprehendingly, dawning horror filling her.

"What?" Cheryl demands in frustration. "Tell us!"

Betty zones out as Veronica fills them in because it can't be real. She's hearing white noise. It can't be true. The lines that Veronica had seen between Betty and Jughead was a typical interaction blue, but it was the fuzzy colour of potential around it that had her reeling. _Gold._ And not the burnished gold of Hermione and Fred, Veronica and Archie, Polly and Jason but untainted, brilliant,  _vibrant_ gold. She's barely keeping it together. She can hear Ethel's surprised thoughts that she was even somewhat rude to Jughead and she's mortified over her own behaviour. But that doesn't matter because what Veronica's seen- "It can't be true." She whispers, slicing through everyone else hushed comments. "He's a human."

 _At least you have someone_ Cheryl thinks; unbidden, even though she's nodding and Betty doesn't have the heart to look at her. She turns to Polly instead, who just bites her lip. 

"I don't know," she says honestly, "you haven't decided anything, so there's nothing I can see."

"Wait," Archie frowns, catching on. "It can't mean they already have the connection, right, Ronnie? It just means once he's bitten? We can get dad to do that-"

"No, Archiekins," replies his stunning girlfriend, thrumming her perfectly manicured nails against the tabletop. "The potential just needs time to develop. I think it means they're soulmates whether he's turned or not-"

"Could we stop talking about this please?" Betty snaps and Jason bites the inside of his cheek pityingly. "None of this is real, okay? There's something off about him. I can't read his mind, so V, whatever you think you're seeing around him is probably distorted-"

"You can't read his mind?" Cheryl repeats incredulously. "Why not?" She's jealous, Betty realises, though she's not sure why. Cheryl's mind is nothing to be ashamed of. A little shallow here and there, but it has depth with  _grief._ There are facets of power dotted all across her mentalscape. 

"We're done talking about this." Betty says again, harder this time, giving them all a once over. She's got their secrets buried away in her head, the things they've thought and though she'd never do it, she hopes they don't know that. "I don't want to hear anymore talk about it."

 

It appears they do know that, because later that evening, as she sits at the piano, Hermione comes and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Mija," she whispers, but Betty doesn't turn to look at her. She just looks ahead at the lush fecundity that surrounds their house. She wonders how long those trees have been there. How long they'll continue to be there. She'll be there long after them. "You know that if there's even a chance of happiness for you, we'd be for it, don't you? For you and Cheryl both." She squeezes her shoulder gently, and leans down so her long brown hair sweeps across Betty like a shield from the world. "If there is a boy who can make you happy-"

"You'll what?" Betty croaks, "kill him? Condemn him to this? It's  _nothing._ Veronica didn't know what she was talking about." And never mind that, but she doesn't even know Jughead. She knows less about him than she would about any other person on earth specifically because she can't read his mind. All she has is some base attraction and a lure to his scent. It's not the stuff of romance. "I nearly killed an entire classroom of people today just for the chance to taste-" she cuts herself off in horror at her own actions. "I don't want anyone to go near him. I don't want to hear about him anymore. He's just a guy." She knows they can all hear her downstairs, and she can hear Fred sighing. It makes her feel guilty, how selfish they want her to be. 

Hermione nods, undeterred by her rant, kissing her head. "Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want." She whispers. But Betty can hear the desire in her head; the want. She just wants Betty and Cheryl to be happy. It's all Hermione seems to long for in her heart. She wants them to be as happy as she is with Fred. It's sweet and selfless but Betty doesn't want that. Love doesn't come at the price of death. She'd rather be alone forever. She's certain of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment lovelies!   
> x


	3. The Green Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead ends his first week of school and begins his second one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely comments beauties, enjoy!

Jughead wakes up languidly on Saturday morning. He stretches in his warm bed and yawns as he blinks to awareness. His room looks better now, filled with useless nicknacks that Josie had persuaded him to buy. It had made his dad happy to see them anyway, and the sight of dirty socks on the floor is a little reassuring. All in all, it's been a good first week of school. He likes his classes and they seem fairly standard. He hadn't seen Betty again in biology, which doesn't really bother him at all, and then he'd begun to type out an email to his mother. He'd promptly deleted it halfway through. Dinners with his dad are nice, or the past six have been anyway. He's not sure what the protocol is for the weekend, honestly. 

He sits up, clicking his neck, before pulling on a sweater and heading downstairs in that and his boxers. He gets halfway down them before he hears the hum of the television and he wonders what time his dad wakes up naturally. 

His dad moves to get up when he walks in, but Jughead's already informed him that he's not royalty, and with a teasing grin from his son, FP sits back down. "You're an early riser too then, huh?" His dad says, still a little nervous around the edges. Like he's trying desperately to find a place Jughead will want to stay, carved in beside him. 

He nods and stumbles into the kitchen blearily, pleased to see Poptarts in the cupboard and he crams them into the toaster. 

"Your phone's been going off," FP offers, he's stood up now and is lingering in the doorway of the kitchen like he doesn't want to be away from Jughead now that there isn't a mad dash for school. "You've made friends fast, huh?" 

Jughead snorts, prodding the sugary breakfast with a fork. "People are weirdly friendly here." He thought of Betty and amended; "well, most people." He turned to take his phone out of his dad's hand and was surprised to see a number of messages from Reggie. They ranged from  **dude save me from Jo's wrath** to  **you fucktard answer your phone** he stared at them a little uncomprehendingly before he decided to call him. He didn't even really remember giving Reggie his number. His dad sets about removing the poptarts for him and setting them onto a plate, and getting out some bread for his own breakfast. 

Reggie picks up on the second ring.  _"Holy shit, are you actually calling me? What century do you live in, Jones?"_

Jughead half smiled, crunching into the chocolate slathered biscuit. "I thought there was an emergency, the amount you messaged."

_"Hilarious. Wanna hang today? Josie's doing stuff with her friends and I'm bored."_

"Did you have any friends before me?" Jughead asked curiously. Reggie seemed very popular, but there was no reason someone popular should be hanging out with the likes of him. 

_"Fuck off. Yes or no?"_

"Today?" Jughead verified, and watched the lines of his dad's back stiffen. He chewed on his lips thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm busy today actually. Hanging out with my dad. You free tomorrow?" 

" _I've gotta check my super busy schedule."_

Jughead snorted. "Fuck off," he laughed, before flinching and jerking his eyes towards his dad. His mom had never liked swearing in the house, but FP barely looked up from where he was slathering butter over his toast. "Tomorrow, then?" 

_"I'll pick you up at 12. Dress pretty for me."_

Jughead laughed again, setting down the phone and feeling strangely exited. Sure, he'd had lunch with Ethel, Kevin, Josie and Reggie the first week of school, but he hadn't thought it would stick. It was endearing though, the prospect of having real friends. Phoenix had been...not so good, and people here seemed too nice to be true. He met his dad's eyes, and they were crinkled fondly. Jughead leaned back in the kitchen seat and beamed. "What are we doing then, dad? I'm fine with pretty much whatever as long as it isn't too strenuous." 

FP chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "How about fishing?" 

Jughead was pleasantly surprised. "Sounds good to me." He chirped. 

Hanging out with his dad is an almost unbelievable level of calmness. He gets to finally sate his curiosity about the murders just out of town. FP had seemed a little uncomfortable at first but after Jughead had explained how he wanted to write his own crime thriller one day, he'd calmed down about it and given him some amazing details as to the mutilations of the bodies. His dad was warm and funny and...eager to be a parent. It was a jarring change but one that Jughead had been suspecting given how accommodating he'd been during his first week here. Besides, Riverdale may have been a grey place but it was still beautiful. Patches of cliff face and the endless black sea were definitely worth taking photos of, and when Reggie pulled up the next day in a blue Jeep sported out in hiking clothes, Jughead was introduced to the lush beauty of the forestry that surrounded the town. 

Though he wasn't particularly appreciative of it at first. 

"Why the hell are we doing this?" He groaned as he slowly made his way up the muddy dirt trail. The canopy was thick and green above them and cast the white light into streaks onto the plants that grey along the ferny floor. Reggie was a way up ahead, now shirtless for some reason that Jughead was fairly sure was just to show off his six-pack, and stood waiting for him. "I had video games in mind," he wheezed, reaching his new friend and doubling over. 

Reggie patted his back with a wide smile. "We're taking advantage of our town's glorious natural landscape."

Jughead reached for a large stick and used it as a walking cane. "No offence, Reggie," he began, after some more amiable walking along the trail. "But...why are you hanging out with me?" He swiped his sweaty fingers through his sweat-slicked hair, pushing it out of his face. "Aren't you...I don't know, jock material?" He used the stick to swipe through a leaf that encroached onto their path. 

His friend shrugged, turning his unfairly handsome face up towards the covered sky. "You seem...different, I guess. I dunno. I like you. I don't have many guy friends, and you're...different." 

The lanky boy tried to hide his smile by looking at the grass. "Well, I'm happy for it. This place is different.  _You're_ different. I know we've only known each other six days but-"

"It feels legit, right?" Reggie asked, and Jughead nodded. 

"Yeah," he answered, feeling warm. "It really does."

...

...

...

Betty was feeling better about being back at school, but much worse about Biology. The extra feeding she'd done over the weekend with Jason and Polly hadn't soothed her as much as she would have liked. But she'd been subjected to numerous visions that flashed through her sister's mind. In each one, it became stronger and stronger that Jughead was going to be a part of their lives. In one such vision, he'd been a vampire, with snow white skin and Betty had shut out Polly's thoughts immediately.  _No._ That wasn't happening in any reality. She'd warmed up minutely to the idea of him and her being friends, perhaps even, after she'd established some control she was fairly sure wasn't possible, soulmates in a nonphysical way. But turning him? It wasn't even on her radar. 

She'd opened the windows wide in the lab, breaking the sliders so they couldn't be slid back down despite the chilly weather and she took her seat, smoothing her hair over one shoulder. Outside was beyond freezing, and patches of ice had stuck here and there to the ground. Her hair was held back with a blue ribbon and her burgundy jumper looked, she hoped, disarming and friendly. She was Betty Cooper. She was nice and confident and she could do anything she set her mind to. She could be friends with Jughead Jones. She caught a glimpse of Jughead through Reggie's thoughts as they walked down the hall together towards the Biology lab. Oh. She pursed her lips in surprise; they'd gone hiking together the day before. They truly were friends. And Jughead was not at all agile, the thought made her smile a little. If anything, the stumbles and trips she saw in Reggie's memories proved that he was clumsy. That was odd. He'd seemed so graceful in the way his dexterous fingers moved and the slope of his neck. 

Soon the door opened and a cluster of students came in.  _It's fucking cold_ Reggie thought, and said, if Jughead's laugh was anything to go by. They both looked over at Betty and she offered a bright smile. It didn't deter them. Jughead winced and Reggie clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck with the ice queen. See you in algebra." He chuckled, sliding into a seat that Betty knew would soon be accompanied by Josie. With a deep breath, Jughead came towards her and she drew in an experimental breath. Yup. Still deep and burning and  _delicious_ but the venom eased with the cool, crisp air of outside. Not as destructive. Not as unbearable. She wouldn't massacre an entire classroom. He was  _divine_ though. She almost wanted to get a deeper smell as he eased onto the stool and set his things quite far over on his side. Like sampling a fine wine. But she clenched her fists on her skirt, trying to control herself. Giving into temptation now would destroy so much. 

"Good weekend?" She asked gently, and he hunched over a little; defensively. She waited, but no response came. She leaned on the desk, feeling younger than she had in years and a little awkward. His pulse hadn't sped up at all and she wondered if perhaps the attraction he'd held towards her had faded due to her actions. She wondered if that would bother her at all. "I just stayed in reading. Although I did take a small break to go outside and tan." She looked up at the sky and was rewarded by a small huffing sound that she triumphantly deciphered as a laugh. 

He turned towards her a little, and she was pleased but worried over his forgiving nature. What would that mean for his relationship with his mother? But before he spoke, his face morphed into a frown. She was about to make another joke, before he blurted out; "do you wear contacts?"

Betty resisted the urge to laugh. Like her eyesight would need improving. "No,"

"Right," he frowned again, biting his bottom lip distractingly. "I just thought you had- I don't know, your eyes look slightly different." 

Cold water washed through her like led paint and she turned to face the front of the class. She was an idiot. An idiot. But she couldn't read his mind, she had no idea what he was thinking and of course, he'd seen her with blue-green eyes and now here she was with molten gold from a fresh feeding. And of course he would notice, unlike the other normal students at this school. "Yeah, everyone says that," she manages weakly, trying to save face. But he still looks curious beside her. 

"You were off school most of last week," he murmurs as a grapevine. "Were you sick?" 

It'd be so easy to say yes but for some reason she doesn't want to. Fred's face, warm and kind floats into her mind, and she sighs. "I think I caught a bug or something but my dad's a doctor, so I'm better now." 

He was still looking at her. She could feel his gaze. Bravely, she returned it. His beanie was still perched onto the back of his head and a small star constellations of moles dotted his jaw. "That's good," he offered with smile. "Do you want to compare homework answers?" He continues innocuously and waves his paper a little between them. Betty laughs, nodding, and they go through their answers. He's gotten everything she had, but the difference is that it took her less than a minute to answer them all whereas he spent the better part of an hour. Jughead is nice, really nice, and well-mannered. He slides her the microscope whenever she asks, often pre-empting her requests and he takes neat, diligent notes. But she can't shake what he'd said about her in the canteen last week. About being spoilt and arrogant and mean. She doesn't want him to think she's like that. She tries not to think about why.

"Jughead," she says, and likes the way his name settles on her tongue. "I just wanted to say sorry if I was rude to you last week. It was your first day and I swear I'm not...I'm not normally like that. It was a weird week for me." She smiled brightly. The smile she uses to be student council rep and teacher's pet. It works on him too, if the uneven stutter of his heart is anything to go by. "I am really sorry." 

His crooked smile is a little bashful. "Everyone said such good things about you, I figured I was getting the wrong end of the stick," he says. His heart shakes a little on the lie, but he seems mostly converted. He now knows her as the sweetheart that she's imprinted on everyone that she is. 

She brushes her hair behind her ear and tries not to smile too widely over the way he follows the movement. She wishes now rather earnestly that she knew what he was thinking. She wants to know how his mind works, she wants to be able to go through his memories. "You're getting to know Riverdale then, huh?" 

He nods, spinning his pencil between his fingers. "Definitely not as bad as I first thought." He offers, "different from Phoenix." 

"Phoenix?" Betty whispers, trying to picture him amidst the sun and heat. She can't really see him outside of the beanie and the flannel. He notices her pause, and she smiles a little. "I can't really picture you in that setting." She admits, frustrated she can't just look into his head. 

He chuckles, "yeah it wasn't the easiest run to be honest." 

What does  _that_ mean? Was he bullied? The thought sends a streak of protectiveness jerking through her. Suddenly she wants to find everyone who hurt him, she wants their blood pooling on the floor and- she startles from the thoughts in horror. She hasn't been so emotional about something in...in decades. Jughead's laughing under his breath and she looks around for the source, only to see Reggie rubbing his arm forlornly from where- after tuning into their thoughts- Josie's just punched him. "You and Reggie are friends, huh?" She asks, trying to go for light to distract herself from more questions about what the people from Phoenix looked like so she can track them down in the dead of night. 

Jughead nods. "It's weird, huh?" He asks around a smile. Betty smiles automatically at the sight of it, and hears her name as clear as someone calling it in Reggie's mind. 

 _Shit. Maybe Betty does like him?_ He thinks to himself, and Betty can see herself and Jughead through his eyes. She looks so...human. Laughing, and body language easy, facing each other like they're just another two students in a classroom. It's also a little jolting to see how Reggie isn't focusing on  _her_ like most thoughts of the boys here. He's focused on Jughead and Betty is slightly dimmed beside him. Josie's the only girl for him despite all his talk and Betty's pleasantly surprised. She'd never really focused on Reggie's mind before but now that she is, she's happy that Jughead's found such a good friend in him. Reggie's thoughts for Jughead are all nice and eager for friendship. He sees something in Jughead that Betty sees herself; some unidentifiable thing. She's a little envious of their easy camaraderie.

She carefully takes a deep breath and is even more stunned to find that his scent, though still enticing, is a little more bearable. It must be exposure. She still hasn't gone to see FP yet. She wants to understand the scent and mind they have in the family. The mother is clearly a sore spot, so she thinks. "Do you have any siblings?"

He stiffens and Betty doesn't need to be Jason to read all the signs of grief. She immediately regrets asking. "I uh- had a sister." He murmurs, "she passed away a long time ago." 

He says so much and yet says so little. When? Her name? Older? Younger? Were they similar in age? Was he more like a parental figure? Again, reading his mind would help solve the mystery of him that he presents to the world. "I'm sorry," she offers, knowing that it's meaningless. He nods anyway, curling his arms around himself. 

"You uh- well, you've got your family?" He asks, nose scrunching a little in curiosity. It's like he isn't sure whether he's allowed to ask and yet he really wants to. "I was given the run-of-the-mill gossip but I'm assuming that it's just how things get twisted in the grapevine." 

Betty laughs but doesn't offer a contradiction. For all everyone thinks that their father secretly experiments on them, it's much better than the alternative. "We're a big family. It took a while for us all to find where we fit, but it's good. My parents are good people." She doesn't really want the attention on her though, and she's trying viciously not to listen to the conversation between Reggie and Josie. They're talking about her and Jughead and it's incredibly distracting. "You said you and your mom were...how's your dad? He's a really good guy." 

She doesn't know that for sure, but she knows what people think. Jughead smiles, clearly remembering something behind his green eyes that Betty wishes she were privy too. "He's a great guy. Makes me wish I'd moved out here early but then it's all-" he cuts himself off, obviously embarrassed but Betty's intrigued. This is the most she's ever heard him talk and she loves the way he pauses between words. Usually she can see exactly what someone means just by hearing them in their head but now she has to wait- suspenseful, as he pieces the words he wants together. And he does so rather lovingly, he must like writing and reading. He cares about how literate he comes across. 

"No, go on," she urges, and he flusters, his eyes catching on her lips. 

It's better than her eyes, so she bites the bottom one purely for show. He blusters and stumbles on. "Well, if I had left earlier I might not be the me that I am now that realises how awesome he is so- I don't know. It's weird, isn't it? To wish for something to have happened earlier without knowing if it would really happen if it had?" 

He's so human. He's more human than most humans. "I get it," she murmurs, giving him an encouraging smile. His blush this time, she admires more for the way it frames his face, rather than what it means is pulsing under his skin. Not by much, though.

...

...

...

It's been an absurdly good day and Jughead feels a little bit like he's in a coming of age teen Disney film rather than real life. He takes out his helmet that his dad keeps insisting he wears and sets it on the seat of his motorbike as Reggie checks out his bike. They're both treading carefully over the slippery ground; little shimmers of frozen water stick to here and there on the tarmac, and all the cars are crawling over it slowly. Kids being far more patient than they usually would. "Definitely too cool for you." He decides grandly, and Jughead snorts as Reggie gives the brakes a squeeze. "Anyway bro, you got anyone in mind for winter formal?" 

The leaner boy rolled his eyes. "I just moved here, I have no idea why I'm supposed to take part. I take it you've got an amazing and romantic way to ask Josie?" 

Reggie grinned; nodding. "I'm gonna text her." He teased.

"Lucky girl," Jughead quipped wryly. It was tempting to just stay at home that night, he knew his dad would like it and his friends wouldn't really mind. But things were going so well here, he almost didn't want to break the illusion. He could be a semi-functioning human being. And though dances weren't this thing, back in Phoenix, even if he'd wanted to go, it wouldn't have been liked by the other students. Here? He'd have peopled who knew him and liked him and just the opportunity to go to a social event where he wouldn't be shoved into a locker, afterwards? It was appealing. "I don't know, I'll probably ask Ethel." He said honestly, remembering the way she would laugh at all his jokes. 

Reggie hummed in agreement. "Eh, why not? But I'm serious, I think Betty's into you." He ended in a sing-song voice. 

"I highly doubt it-"

"Oh, hey!" Reggie whips around and sees Josie coming out of the building. "I'll see you later, bro, okay?" He punched Jughead's arm. "Bye!" 

Jughead watched him jog over to his girlfriend fondly, before again feeling prickles down his neck. He turned and unnervingly found Betty standing across the lot with a red head- he couldn't remember if it was Archie or Jason, and Veronica next to their incredibly expensive car. The three of them were staring at him and even though they were far away, their piercing stares felt penetrative. He felt bared and exposed but he offered a small wave to Betty, and he thought he could make out a small smile in return. 

He turned to his bike, about to straddle it and put his helmet on when there was a horrible screeching sound and he faintly heard Reggie yell his name. He turned curiously, only to see a flash of orange as Ethel's car came hurtling towards him. 

He didn't have time to scream before he was on the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment darlings!   
> x


	4. The Ghost-White Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The iconic almost-car crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by the wonderful, beautiful, fantastical HufflepuffBetty who the story is for. It's meant to be a gift, but gosh-darn it she's too helpful. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“It’s getting stronger,” Veronica chimed happily, shaking her hips a little so the flare of her black dress swishes around her knees. Betty tries to ignore her as the three of them stand waiting for the rest of their siblings to come out of the building. But it’s difficult to when it’s so easy to hear Veronica’s thoughts. The line between her and Jughead is getting stronger, fading from the bluish-purple towards the gold that she’s envisioned for the both of them. 

_ He seems nice  _ Archie thinks quietly, but Betty can still hear it clear as day, and she turns to her brother to see him staring across the parking lot to where Jughead and Reggie are talking. She smiles a little. She’s happy that Archie thinks so, but then again, she can’t think of many people that Archie doesn’t like. It seems a little like he’s giving her his approval, which just means he agrees with V that Jughead will be close to them someday. Betty doesn’t mind; Archie agrees with Veronica about most things, but she doesn’t want to think of Jughead becoming like them. She’s not sure she minds the idea of being close to him, because that just means she isn’t killing him. And she  _ does  _ like him. But the thought of him being turned that’s- that’s a type of hell Betty would rather not inflict on herself or anyone else. Aloud, Archie says; “he seems nice.”

Betty loves Archie. Veronica nods, sipping the water that’s hiding in her coffee holder. Betty’s not sure why she’s doing it exactly, considering she’s only going to have to regurgitate it later, but apparently it adds to the aesthetic that she’s going for today. “Yeah, he does. I mean, he’s human, but...I can see the chic of it.”

“Please,” Betty sighs, for what feels like the umpteenth time. “Can we not talk about this?” Besides, she’s focusing now on the subject of the winter formal that Reggie and Jughead are talking about. She listens with a frown. Winter Formal isn’t something she really thinks about. They all go together even though there are pairings. Veronica and Archie used to be the only one but now that Polly and Jason are together...Betty wonders if maybe she and Cheryl should stay at home. And yet....there’s something about the thought of Jughead admitting that he’s going to ask  _ Ethel  _ that makes her think the first vicious thoughts she’s ever thought about the sweet, freckled girl. 

“...I think Betty’s into you.” Reggie offers, and flashes of Betty and Jughead’s interactions flash through his mind. Betty can also see through Reggie’s thoughts, the numerous Ethel and Jughead interactions.  _ I wonder if he prefers Ethel? How could he when the Andrew’s girls look like  _ _ that?  _ _ It’s freaky but it’s hot. Wait, is that Josie?  _ And his train of thought is cut away, and she’s denied a further glimpse into what Jughead’s feelings might be for Ethel. 

“I highly doubt it,” Jughead snorts, and Betty frowns. Why would he doubt it? Does he find himself undesirable? That’s...she frowns harder, a little angry now because that must mean the people who made life hard for him back in Phoenix obviously also had an impact on his self-confidence. The violent urge to hurt those bullies comes swarming back to her. Or was it perhaps his mother? 

_ Betty!  _ She hears Polly’s shriek, and suddenly she’s seeing Ethel’s tyres slip on a patch of ice and- Not him. Not him. 

A wet, sludgy piece of ice is sent flying into the air from one of Ethel’s tyres and time slows.

She launches herself across the parking lot, too fast to be seen by human eyes, everything looks like a blur and all she can see is Jughead; staring wide eyed at the skidding truck. Of course, she thinks, of course it’s him. And  _ god  _ what is she doing? She gets to him just as the vehicle starts to veer towards him and his bike. She falls to her knees and catches him around the waist, dragging him to the ground. She’s moving with such urgency, with such  _ fear  _ that she isn’t as gentle as she should be. She hauls him into her arms, towards the wet floor and cries out when his head smacks into the tarmac. 

The piece of browned, dirt filled ice reaches the apex of its arc and begins a slow, crumbling descent.

For one, horrifying moment, she thinks she’s spilt blood. She knows she won’t be able to stop herself, she’ll have exposed them- more than she has already. Oh god, what has she done? Everyone’s going to be so mad at her, Cheryl especially, but he makes a small, confused noise in her grasp. Like a wounded animal, and she loosens her grip once she realises how tight it is. He’s so fragile. So breakable. And through all the panic and the fog, she can’t help but think that it feels a little bit right. Him in her grasp. She tries not to ponder on the more dangerous metaphors of that analogy. No blood. There’s no blood. 

She doesn’t have the chance for coursing relief before she’s sticking her hand out to stop the momentum of Ethel’s car. The metal gives like butter under her palm and bounces away, before skittering back a few inches. The truck squeals again, more slowly this time towards them with momentum and with a wretched gasp she realises it was going to land on his legs. She thrusts her arm out underneath it, holding it up and closing her eyes in defeat. 

She hears, distantly, the sound of the wet ice finally hitting the tarmac with a  _ thwack. _

She’d done it. She’d risked it. She’d risked the entire life Fred and Hermione had tried to give them. And it was all for the boy in her arms. The boy that fate had quite clearly wanted dead this afternoon. She carefully set the truck down now that it wouldn’t hurt him, and quickly smoothed out her handprint into a dent. 

What were people going to think? A truck hurtling towards a boy and a motorbike and the motorbike wasn’t even scratched! Without thinking she shoved it onto its side. 

_ I’ll get anything you missed  _ Archie thinks, and Betty could have wept for her gratitude of him and the fact that one person in the family, at least, had already forgiven her. Warily, she turned her attention to Jughead; his skin was ashen to the point that he looked like one of them. It stood out starkly from the dark, wet tarmac around him. How much had he seen? She wondered, ignoring Veronica’s frantic thoughts. His shamrock eyes were staring right back at her; wide with shock. His pupils were heavily dilated and Betty suddenly had a burst of guilt. The only injury he had was from where she’d smacked his head into the ground. “Juggie?” She whispered, ignoring Veronica and Archie’s unison thought of  _ Juggie?  _ “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he murmured automatically, though he still looked a little dazed. Relief coursed through and she could have cried. He was okay. She had saved him. Here he was in her arms,  _ alive.  _ Not only had she not killed him and a classroom of students but she’d  _ saved  _ him. He shuffled a little, trying to sit up. She helped him, still reeling over the fact he was okay but also that she’d managed to be gentle enough with him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even touched a human and yet here she was helping him sit up. 

Betty felt safer, right here beside him. Maybe if she protected him she wouldn’t want to kill him? Her logic wasn’t helping, Jughead was wincing a little.  _ You better be doing fucking damage control, you idiot  _ came Cheryl’s rather vicious inner monologue. A quick scan of her head showed that Cheryl, and Jason, hadn’t forgiven her at all. She didn’t focus on it for now. Right. Damage control. “I think you hit your head really hard,” she murmured, quietly grateful for Jason increasing the panic of the crowd of quickly gathering students. That was good. Hysteria meant that anyone who had seen her over on the other side of the lot before the accident would doubt themselves. “I think someone’s calling the ambulance, you should get checked out.” She was worried she might have hurt him internally. Fred would be able to tell her. 

He lifted up a hand to touch his head and winced a little. “I uh…” he closed his eyes in concentration. He still looked so small and so vulnerable. Betty wanted the encroaching crowd to stay away. He needed protecting. “How did you get over here so fast?”

Her relief went sour. Crap. Crap. He’d seen too much. Damage control, damage control, she tried to think of the tips Hermione had first given her.  _ Confidence, mija. Confidence is key.  _ She took a deep breath and prepared herself. It was true, humans were entirely too susceptible and polite to a confident piece of assurance. She managed a friendly smile, the same one she’d used to charm him in Biology earlier today. That felt like a lifetime ago. “I was standing right next to you, Jughead,” she said like he was funny and a little slow. 

Her confidence worked. He looked increasingly confused. Someone was screaming Ethel’s name and Principal Weatherbee had just been informed as to what had happened. To Betty’s surprise he cared more about the students’ well being rather than the reputation of the school. Good for him, she thought. “An ambulance is coming, Jug, it’s okay.” 

He nodded, but the movement seemed to hurt him more. She desperately wished she knew more about medicine. “Is Ethel okay? I-”

It was so like him. So wonderfully caring that he was worried about someone else. Meanwhile Betty hadn’t even given a single thought to Ethel’s conditions. She listened for her voice, and was relieved to find Ethel with a nose bleed from bashing her face into the steering wheel and a broken arm, but nothing more serious. “She’s okay. She’s okay, don’t worry.” She soothed, rubbing his arm. Incredible. It was incredible, she was comforting him. She was touching him! She felt invincible. 

But Jughead was back with the ice-water. “You were by your car, w-weren’t you?” He frowned. 

Betty swallowed thickly. “No,” she said more adamantly. “No, I wasn’t.” 

“But I saw you-”

“I saw standing right next to you, Jughead. I pulled you out of the way, don’t you remember? We should probably tell the doctor how hard you hit your head-”

He clenched his jaw. Ah. She’d found a sore spot. He didn’t like to be made the idiot. She wasn’t surprised. He was hardworking and clever and also incredibly careful with his actions. He wasn’t to be made the fool and he didn’t appreciate her doing it. 

“Oh god! Oh my god, Betty! Betty, are you okay, sis?” Archie cried, jumping over a piece of the wreckage and shoving through the gaggle of students. Betty applauded his acting and nodded. 

“I’m fine, Archie.” She said, doing her best imitation of a shaky voice. She could see Jughead’s eyes narrowing suspiciously in her peripheral. Archie’s concerned face made him look very human, and she knew she’d have to pick up some tips.  _ How much has he seen?  _ Archie wondered, and Betty shot him a look.  _ Ah. Shit. I’d worry about Jason and Cheryl, Betts. They’re- _

Jughead shivered violently under her, and she immediately scanned him for other injuries. He was just cold. She couldn’t really feel the frosty air, but he was so human, so soft and breakable. 

Archie saw it too, and immediately shucked off his coat. He draped it down over Jughead’s shoulders and offered a smile. “It’s alright, bro, ambulance is working it’s way through now.” 

Jughead’s pounding heartbeat settled a little. Betty definitely owed Archie. He was likeable and made everyone feel comfortable, just like Fred. His talent may have been extreme physical strength, but he was the gentlest giant she knew. “Okay.” He echoed.

Archie beamed, straightening up to ease back into the crowd, and Jughead used that opportunity to whisper under his breath. “I know you were across the lot. I  _ know  _ it.”

“You don’t know what you know.” Betty snapped desperately. “You hit your head-”

“No-”

“Jughead,” she cut him off with wide eyes, boring into him with all the intensity she could without giving the game away. “Please,  _ please  _ just trust me. I just saved your life, couldn’t you- just please drop it.” She moved forward a little, so their foreheads barely touched. His skin was so hot it felt as if it was scorching her, but she felt his resolve waver a little. He must really have been cold if he hadn’t noticed her freezing skin. 

He nodded a little, his eyes fixed over her shoulder on the dent of the truck. “You’ll tell me later?” He asked quietly, and she realised that he was braced for rejection. He was waiting for her to lie to him. 

It twisted something deep in her non-beating heart. “I will,” she promised. “I promise.” 

He nodded.    
  


The hospital was crammed full of students who were claiming shock from having witnessed the entire ordeal and as Jughead and Ethel were loaded out of the ambulance, Betty tried to find Fred’s mind and was relieved to see he was in his office. 

She flitted to him, pushing open the door and he looked up with a kind, fatherly smile. Only to falter at the look on her face. 

_ Oh god, Betty- did you-  _ visions of Jughead (he didn’t know what he looked like, so it was just a shadowy figure) lying bleeding on the floor beside a despairing Betty flashed through his head but she hurried to assure him.

“No, no- I saved him, it was a car accident, he’s okay but-”

_ Of course. Of course.  _ He smiled at her, pride written into each crease around his mouth.  _ I should have known better, Betty.  _ He was admonishing himself, and Betty flustered under him. Fred was a good man. If it wasn’t for him, none of them could have united as a family. Hermione may have been his love, but everyone owned a piece of his heart. Archie was his pride, that much was clear. Archie was simple and sweet and took the most after Fred than anyone else. Veronica had his respect. Whatever her actions, the things she’d lived through to get to where she was and the perceptiveness of her power set her apart from all others. She rarely complained, and if she did it was light-hearted jesting. He respected her respectfulness. It reminded him of a simpler time. 

Cheryl, cruel cut and harsh was his strength. Where he was too soft, which was very rarely- Fred Andrews was the fairest man she knew, and strong when he needed to be, Cheryl was able to prop him up. She had a vicious mean streak, but she repented for it, and he loved the strength it took for her to do so. Polly was his joy, she’d always been. She made him smile with her positivity and optimistic outlook. He’d been almost as delighted as Hermione when she’d found Jason. And yes, Jason- Betty had been surprised to hear Fred’s thoughts on the slightly aloof, hesitant vampire. But Jason was his faith. Jason who had been a soldier that deserted, who had killed so many and was now living as a vegan vampire. Jason who so often struggled and so often wanted to give up but kept going, he encompassed the faith that Fred hopes meant he could convert all vampires to. 

And Betty? Betty was his hope. She knew that. She made him so hopeful. He saw her as higher than himself. She was on a pedestal that meant even if she did something to disappoint him, he’d forgive her eternally. 

“Fred, will you…” her voice wavered a little, “will you make sure he’s okay?”

He nodded, and she followed him out into the hallway. They waved seamlessly until they got to an ER room. It was mostly empty, and Jughead was sitting on the edge of the one of the beds, a silver blanket over his shoulders. He looked up as they walked in and Betty winced a little as his eyes flickered between them. He looked bewildered and she wasn’t surprised. For a supposedly adopted daughter, she and Fred looked alarmingly alike. He threw her a little glare that said he wanted this explained later, like she’d  _ promised  _ and through worry, she was also pleased that she could now read his facial expressions.

“Hello, Jughead,” Fred said, with a warm bedside manner, as he came to stand in front of the teenager. “My daughter says you hit your head a little.” 

Jughead, who still looked a little struck by the resemblance, nodded. “I’m fine, though,” he murmurs, “I still haven’t seen Ethel-”

“One of my colleagues has told me she’s going to be okay. They’re just setting a brace for her arm, alright?” He said, sliding his fingers into Jughead’s long blue locks. Betty watched jealously with the ease of Fred’s gentleness. But, she had proved to herself today that she could be gentle with humans. Well, barring the smack of the head she’d given Jughead, maybe one day she too would be able to put her hands in his hair. He hissed a sharp intake of breath as Fred’s fingers went over the bump. “A little tender,” Fred nodded, “but I think you should be okay-”

There was a loud commotion from a few hallways down, and at a nod from Fred, Betty darted out to see what was causing it. She was faced with the vision of FP Jones yelling at one of the doctors. His eyes were wet with unshed tears and agony was tinting his words. There was a true family likeness. They were built the same way, with the same shaped face. “Where’s my boy?” He was yelling, his deep voice trembling with fear, and Archie, from the other side of the hall tipped his head. 

_ There’s a reason not to kill Jughead. It’d kill his dad.  _ Thought the red-head. 

Betty didn’t really need another reason not to kill Jughead, but Archie was right. Jughead may have only been living with him for a week, but FP Jones clearly loved his son more than anything. Eventually, he was told which room to go to and Betty rushed back to Jughead and Fred. Ethel was now in the room too, and Jughead was signing her sling. Betty winced at Ethel’s thoughts as she watched from her view the way Jughead drew a little crown under his name.  _ He’s so nice  _ Ethel thought, admiring the curl of his eyelashes  _ maybe I should ask him to Winter Formal? As an apology for nearly killing him?  _ And then she was consumed with another wave of guilt. “I really am sorry, Jug-”

“It’s okay, Ethel, really,” he assured her, “I think you may have got the worst of it.” He gestured to the dried blood under her nose and she laughed. 

“It’s so weird,” she murmured, “I don’t even remember seeing Betty and if it wasn’t for her yanking you out of the way, who knows what- oh god, I really am sorry.” 

Betty and Fred stiffened, before FP stormed into the room. “Jug!” He cried, rushing over to him and collecting him into a tight hug. Betty tried not to smile as Jughead patted his father’s arm awkwardly. FP pulled back and cradled his son’s face. “Are you okay?” He whispered, “are you hurt?” 

Betty could get the faintest emotion off of him. The tone and tenor of his thoughts. She could perhaps read his honesty and deceit, but as to the detail regarding them, FP was a mystery just like his son. It must be genetic. Jughead flushed under the scrutiny, but let his dad turn his face this way and that. “I’m fine, dad, honestly-”

“That fucking school, they should- they should have salt or something on the roads- I mean- what if something had happened to you-” his voice broke, choking on his fear and Betty looked away, feeling as if she was intruding. 

“Your son is going to be just fine, Mr Jones,” Fred said, alerting FP to his presence as he looked up from the clipboard. “If he exhibits any dizziness of eyesight issues, bring him right back.” 

FP nodded, as if he were memorising every word by heart. He cursed as he realised something. “I’m not letting you ride that bike anymore-”

Jughead opened his mouth in dismay. “What?  _ Dad-” _

“No, no,” he rubbed his temples, “maybe I can drop you off early or-”

“I can drive him.” Betty offered, every pair of eyes in the room swivelling to her. She swallowed, ignoring Fred’s curious gaze, to wave a little at FP. “I’m Betty Cooper. Juggie and I are Biology partners and- my dad just got me my own car,” she threw Fred a small smile and he shook his head fondly.  _ The others won’t be too pleased  _ he thought lightly, and Betty knew that was true.

Jughead was staring at her, and FP was looking between them a little delightedly. He, no doubt, was thinking what Ethel was thinking:  _ Does Betty like him? What? The Andrews have never liked anyone ever and then all of a sudden- ugh, it figures. But Jughead- it’s Jughead- it doesn’t matter, Ethel. You nearly killed him, remember? Maybe you should focus on not killing anyone.  _

Betty tried not to smile. That was a thought she often had. “It’s not out of the way, really.” 

FP nodded a little, turning to look at his son. Jughead was still staring at her. His father took this to be a yes, and offered her his hand. She took it, hoping that basic human politeness would stop him from commenting on the temperature. It did. “Well, it’s good to meet you, Betty. Thanks.” He sighed, looking significantly more relieved now that he knew his son was okay. “I should get you home then, Jug,”

“Actually,” Fred interjected, “there are a few forms for you to sign first.” 

Jughead stood up, eyes hard. “Yeah. Betty, could I talk to you for a second outside?” 

She swallowed nervously. 

…

…

…

For all the confidence he’d built up from waiting in the ambulance ride and stewing quietly whilst having his pulse taken, it all dissipated as Betty stared at him. She leant against the wall, looking bored with the entire situation. He took a deep breath of courage and leaned in close to her. She stiffened and pulled back. It was just like the first day they’d met. Like he was  _ beneath  _ her. The quiet fury gave him strength and he locked his jaw in determination. “Where’s my explanation?” He whispered.

She smiled, the smile of a popular pretty girl, the type of smile he saw all the time in Phoenix right before a scathing comment. “I don’t think I owe you anything, Jughead. You were in shock, okay? You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He grasped for words but none came. How could she be denying it so blatantly? How could she be acting as if nothing had happened? She’d- no, he hadn’t imagined the desperation in her eyes for him to stop asking questions. “Ethel didn’t see you either.” He murmured, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “So don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t even know  _ how  _ I hit my head and-” he searched for something, “you promised.” He finished lamely.

She arched an eyebrow at him, and he felt small. He could feel his eyes well with tears in pure frustration, and he turned away from her. Brilliant. Fucking brilliant. Not only has he nearly given his dad a heart attack but he’s about to start crying. Betty may be the most beautiful and put-together girl he’s ever seen, but she’s giving him whiplash. One moment she’s engaging and the next, she’s staring at him like he’s dirt. He feels jerked around, and he wipes his hot tears with the back of his hand. “Nobody’s going to believe you.” She says softly. 

He turned to her, frowning. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t going to tell anyone.” He sniffs, “I don’t- I don’t care what other people think, Betty. I just want to know how one second you were nowhere near me to next second-” he took a breath, aware he sounded insane. “And the next second you’re stopping a car with your  _ hand,  _ I…” he let out a breath of awe. “I just want to know-”

“Then,” she began, flicking her hair over her shoulder dismissively. “It sucks to be you.” And with that she was off down the hallway. 

Jughead stared after her, trying to reconcile this Betty to the one who had just offered to drive him to school for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

A muscular pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and he was manhandled to see Reggie giving him a tight hug. “Fucking hell, Jones,” he sighed, nearly lifting him off the ground. “Can’t go two minutes without me, can you?”

He laughed despite himself, leaning into the fake punches. “Close call. Ethel’s had it much worse.”

“Josie’s seeing her now.” His friend nodded, “and where’d you get this?” He plucked at the coat. “This looks expensive as fuck.”

“It’s Archie’s.” Jughead remembered, recalling the weird moment that Archie had come to check on his sister. Maybe he was in more shock than he thought because he remembers the coat making him  _ colder  _ for a moment instead of warmer.  “I’ll have to get it back to him.” 

“Cool. Wait, do your injuries mean you won’t be in school tomorrow?” 

A day of sleep  _ was  _ appealing, and the thought of seeing Betty again tomorrow was definitely not fun. He nodded. “I’ll be at home resting.” He decided, and Reggie moaned jealousy. “Hey Reggie,” he said, as the two walked back towards the ER room. “Did you see Betty before the crash?” 

Reggie nodded, humming. “Yeah, she was standing right beside you, wasn’t she?” 

The floppy haired boy shook his head in amazement. “Yeah,” he whispered in disbelief. “She was.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, darlings! 
> 
> and yes I'm afraid I did change the number of chapters because....BECAUSE. mwah mwah x


	5. The Blue Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and her family talk.
> 
> Jughead has a secret admirer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by the eternally wonderful dream boat HufflepuffBetty! 
> 
> Enjoy!

She felt like a teenager about to be scolded as she walked up from the garage to the dining room. The others were close behind and she did her best to block out their thoughts. Hermione was already there, sitting at the head of the large, oak table. Of course, it was never used for eating, but it made a good spot for family discussions. 

_ He’s your soulmate, huh, Mija?  _ Hermione thought with a loving smile. Betty couldn’t muster the energy to return it and took a seat at the table beside the windows. Cheryl strode in next, thoughts angry and vehenmous and staunchly took a seat directly opposite Betty, her back to the fireplace. Well, she’d certainly chosen her side. The blonde vampire frowned. Cheryl was thinking very hard about her new car; a tactic often used to detract from what she was really thinking about. Betty wondered briefly what it was before Fred walked in. 

He sighed upon seeing the three of them. Betty heard his thoughts clear as a bell. He wanted to sit beside Hermione at the head of the table, but knew that this was not a time for diplomacy.  _ Poor Cheryl. She just wants to make sure we’re all safe.  _ He thought, as he eased himself into the chair beside Betty. He reached his hands out across the surface and Hermione held them tightly, lovingly. Both Betty and Cheryl stared at their twined hands before looking at each other. Betty smiled a little smugly. If Fred was on her side, the argument was essentially won. No one went against him. 

Archie and Veronica walked in next. Veronica’s eyes scanned the room and Betty joined her in her mind. Hermione and Fred’s line was the same gold as always, but the line between Betty and Cheryl looked slightly strained. Veronica didn’t even blink as she sat down on Betty’s other side and Archie sat easily beside her. She swallowed hopefully, more people were on her side than she thought. 

_ Betty  _ Archie thought again,  _ I really think Cheryl’s going to say something you won’t like. _

Betty frowned, trying to dive back into Cheryl’s mind but she was focusing intensely on the thickness of her tyres.

Polly and Jason walked in next and Betty could sense Jason’s conflict. Polly sat beside Archie and Jason stood; torn. Everyone turned to look at him.  _ I should be with Polly. But- Cheryl’s right- but Polly-Cheryl-  _ He pushed both of them from his mind and thought of the sight of Betty flying across the parking lot. The memory of it made her wince. She really had put them in danger. Jason went to stand just behind Cheryl, not sitting down, but geographically letting everyone know how he felt. 

He wasn’t doing a damn thing to rile down Cheryl’s anger, but then again, he wasn’t increasing it either. 

“Well,” Fred began gently, and everyone stiffened to attention. “I think we have something we need to talk about?”  _ Up to you, Betty  _ he added, and she nodded. 

“I...want to say sorry,” she began slowly, looking over to Cheryl and Jason specifically. “I put us in danger and that was...inexcusable. I just...I wasn’t thinking, I just acted and I really am sorry. I take full responsibility and I understand that you’re-” 

“What do you mean, ‘take full responsibility’?” Cheryl asked, leaning her perfect face onto her hand as her elbow rested on the table. She was kitted out in a gorgeous green designer dress and her red tresses seemed to shine with the contrast. “Are you going to fix it?” 

Betty gasped as she suddenly saw what Cheryl had been trying to hide. What Archie had been trying to warn her about. Cheryl was planning on killing Jughead. Betty stood up, her chair clattering to the ground behind her and everyone looked around in confusion bar Polly; whose jaw dropped. 

“Cheryl!” Polly hissed in dismay, and Cheryl’s stoic face softened for a moment, before hardening again. But Betty could see it now, playing out in Polly’s mind based on Cheryl’s decision. She was going to fake an injury, lure him out into the woods. She could see Jughead now, wary but wanting to help, wearing his blue jacket with the cotton trims. She could see the way he scrabbled against Cheryl’s hold before his body went limp and lifeless in her grasp. Betty could distantly appreciate that Cheryl wasn’t going to spill blood, but she couldn’t get past her anger. 

“You are not,” Betty began, voice trembling darkly and with power. “Going to hurt him.” She rested her hands on the table, leaning forward. She could see Polly’s vision changing. Now in the forest Jughead was watching in horror as Betty and Cheryl fought. Betty wondered if she could take her. Cheryl and her had been vampires for around the same time, but she had the advantage of knowing Cheryl’s moves before she made them. But then again, Cheryl had killed a lot more vampires than Betty had. Humans too. And now she wanted to add another to the list. 

Cheryl stayed strong under the scrutiny from the others, even though Betty could sense her wavering a little. “He’s a liability. Obviously Betty can’t do it, so I will. She can’t control herself around him, Fred,” she turned to her father beseechingly. “You know what has to be done here!”

Fred said nothing for the moment, and instead turned to Betty.

“I think she exercised some control today,” Veronica pointed out, “by saving him and not killing him. Imagine if that truck had hit him? And his blood had spilt out all over the ground? Do you think she’d have been able to stop herself? Jason too?” She glared in the direction of the redhead. “She made the smartest decision out of any of us there. Besides, their bond grew stronger today. I don’t think she’ll kill him. Polly?”

Polly smiled, shaking her head. “I don’t see Betty killing  _ Jughead  _ in the future.” 

Jason frowned, shifting slightly. Betty dipped into his head. Ah. He hadn’t expected her to fight him. He was wondering if he could take her. Jason was the best fighter out of all of them, by far, and he was just the newest vampire. He could also make her feel lethargic and tired, or increasingly stressed and confused. It would be a difficult fight. Cheryl was wavering on her decision but Jason was becoming more solidified. Veronica’s jab had cut into him a little, and Betty could see through Polly’s head how  _ he  _ planned to kill Jughead. 

Differently to Cheryl. Sneaking into his house at night, pushing hard on the soft base of his skill, killing him instantly. Betty could see FP’s reaction in the morning, his  _ scream  _ shook her to her core. Polly swallowed thickly, and looked up at Jason. “You’re going to destroy his father,” she whispered, but Jason didn’t buckle. 

“I’d do anything to protect you, Polly.” He said evenly, his gold eyes intense. “If that means eliminating any liabilities then-”

“Okay,” Fred sighed, nodding. Betty could knew what he was going to say but she didn’t pick up her chair to sit down. “Cheryl, I let what happened in New Orleans happen because I felt those men wronged you monstrously. But I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Jughead today, which is more than I can say for most of you around this table who seem to have decided his fate-” he shot a stern look to Jason. “And he’s an innocent. Not to mention what Polly said. FP is a good man.”

Cheryl softened a little, nodding. Betty was relieved that one threat, at least, was out of the way. Cheryl may disagree internally but she would go with what Fred said because she respected him. Jason, however, seemed to be holding himself above the proceedings, and if Polly’s visions were anything to go by, he was still going to try and kill Jughead. 

“ _ No,  _ Jason.” Betty growled. 

He stared at her dispassionately. A lifetime of violence going through his head. “You have to know when actions have to be taken, Betty.”

Was she really going to fight him over this? Yes, a part of her answered. She was. She didn’t know Jughead that well, but she  _ felt  _ when she was with him and it was more than she’d thought she could ever have. “I’ll fight you, Jason.” She murmured and he frowned, sizing her up. 

“We could all just move?” Archie offered diplomatically, “because no offence Jason, but if you come at Betty, I’ll rip your head off.” 

Jason cowered back a little. A fight again Betty he  _ might  _ win, but a fight against Betty and Jughead? The odds were less likely. She could feel herself relaxing as Polly’s visions ebbed away. “We’re not moving,” Cheryl whined, “I like it here. There’s so little sun it’s almost like we’re normal."

“It would be difficult to move again,” Hermione murmured, stroking her thumb over Fred’s hand. He nodded, looking at everyone. 

“Guys, we all make mistakes,” he whispered, including himself even though he never had. “I think we should give Betty another chance to prove control. What she did today was be a savior when she could have been the villain. We’re a family, and we stick together. Polly and Veronica both think that Jughead’s got a real chance to make Betty happy, and family wants that for each other, don’t they?” His eyes locked on Jason. Betty felt protectiveness for her pseudo-father rising through her. Jason didn’t know Fred like the rest of them yet, and he was the most likely to go against his word.  _ What does he know?  _ Jason thought  _ he hasn’t seen combat like I have- _

“Jason,” Polly whispered, getting his attention. “Don’t you want Betty to have what  _ we  _ have?” 

Betty watched in amazement as Jason’s thoughts of violence were swiftly replaced with thoughts of Polly’s smile. The way she caressed his cheeks. He remembered them swimming in an ocean full of sharks after he was freshly turned and swimming down to amazing depths. Love eased into all the areas of hatred and he crumpled. “I do want you to be happy, Betty,” he admitted, and she let her tense shoulders ease. She was left winded by the jealousy she’d felt for their love.

“Good,” Fred beamed, happy that they were all in agreement. 

 

…

…

…

 

“I’m okay, dad,” Jughead laughed a little, as his dad came upstairs with a bowl of soup. He moved his laptop off his lap and took the soup gratefully. FP hovered a little, staring down at him with a loving look on his face. He could feel himself flushing under the adoration in his gaze. 

FP cleared his throat, jamming his hands into his pockets. “The bike’s fine, actually. Barely a scratch on it. Once you’re fully healed maybe you can...once or twice and  _ with  _ the helmet, ride it to school.”

Jughead grinned. “Awesome.” He fanned himself a little. “Would you open the window for me?”

His dad nodded, eager to do something, and walked across the room, lifting the window furthest away so a small breeze trickled into the room. “So uh...Betty Cooper, huh?” FP chuckled, shaking his head wistfully. “Of all the families in all of Riverdale, trust you to find the Andrews.” 

He hummed, taking a small sip of the soup. “Betty and I aren’t really...I don’t know, she’s weird. Girls are weird.” 

FP nodded, sitting down onto the desk chair. The dark sky outside cast shadows around the room, but his dad flicked on the desk light so a warm glow suffused the room. “No girls back in Phoenix?” 

Jughead snorted. “If you mean: were there girls? Yes. If you mean, did  _ I  _ interact with any of them? It’s a hard no.”

His dad nodded, like he was learning it. Categorising everything about his son. “Not much of a ladies man, then? Not into sports, either? What did you do for fun? Write?” He gestured to the laptop. Jughead nodded, swiping a hand through his hair and wincing when his fingers met the bump. FP jerked a little. “Do you need some more painkillers-”

“I’m fine,” he smiled, “yeah, I write a lot. I didn’t uh…” he picked at the bed cover. “I didn’t have many friends back home.” On cue, his phone buzzed with a text from Reggie.  **Get well soon loser.**

FP seemed pleased. “You have some good ones here. Will you be alright on your own tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” he answered easily, picking up his soup to continue eating it. His dad stood up, heading for the door. Lingering in the doorway. Something about the moment hung heavy between them, and Jughead stared at the vegetables as they bobbed amongst the broth. “Jellybean would’ve liked you.” He said, barely above a whisper.

FP’s swallow was audible. He rapt his knuckles against the wall. “You think?” 

“I know.”

His dad hummed, a pleased, sad sound in the back of his throat. “Get some sleep, Jug, okay?”

“I will dad. Love you.” 

FP stiffened again, turning away as he shut the door. “Love you too, boy,” 

Jughead finished his soup and returned to his laptop. The numerous webpages and tabs hadn’t been much help. They all talked about what a human being was capable of doing when adrenaline was pumping in their blood at max. But it always related to parents and children. Somewhere there was a real bond. He barely knew Betty. Why would she be able to perform superhuman feats just because he’d been in trouble? The whole thing had shaken him and now that he’d thought of Jellybean, he felt sick. 

He hadn’t thought too much of the near-accident. Ethel was fine, and so was he, but Jellybean- she’d just been crossing the road. She was only ten.  _ She died instantly. She wouldn’t have felt any pain.  _ That’s what the doctors had said, but Jughead knew what it was like now. To think your life was going to be over. He could remember the frost in his veins as he stared, rooted to the spot as the truck veered towards him. Is that what she’d felt? Only  _ ten  _ years old? Her final emotion that of petrified fear and immobility? 

He hoped not.

An article caught his eye as he scrolled.  _ Radioactive mutations  _ it read. Well, it was far-fetched but it could perhaps explain their skin. He shivered as he remembered seeing Mr Andrews and Betty side by side. Their skin had been eerily similar, just like all her siblings. Was he also experimenting on himself? All so white and beautiful. He considered briefly if they were neo-nazis. Maybe neo-nazis with a secret chemical that Hitler had created to give themselves superpowers? 

He frowned. Maybe he did need some sleep. He eased further into the cushions, and started closing down the tabs when he came across one he’d opened a few days ago. It was about the murders. The searches split his screen, side by side, he stared at them. Murders just outside of Riverdale and radioactive superhumans. 

His phone buzzed again. He opened it to Reggie’s message.  **Josie and I are going back to Seaside this weekend? Wanna bring Ethel? U could pop the question about WF?**

The thought of Winter Formal now was not something he wanted to consider. He’d stay home, thanks. Besides, the thought of Betty in a nice dress was...something he could probably do without.  **No thanks** he replied, **I’ll head down to southside with my dad this weekend I think** he sent it and pressed lock screen. The distraction would do him good, probably. As much as he loved Reggie and despite how nice it would have been to go to a social event without fear for the first time, he wasn’t sure he could face seeing Betty when he didn’t have to. He couldn’t handle her mood swings. Not to mention the fact that he’d essentially begged her for the truth and she’d walked away from him like her promises were nothing. 

**R u and Ethel not a thing anymore?** His phone buzzed, and Jughead rolled his eyes, tossing it onto the floor. The alluring pull of sleep was tempting him. He set his laptop on the floor and tugged off his sweater and jeans, collapsing into the pillowed comfort. He lay on his front, so as not to hurt his head and the cool air tickled along his spine, comforting his heated skin. He distantly thought he should turn the lamp off, but he was asleep before his hand could reach for the switch. 

…

…

…

 

Out of the vast number of cars in their underground carpark, Betty chose the modest looking mini as she drove to the Jones house early next morning. It was a little bright today, patches of sunlight easing through the clouds and her and her siblings had dressed accordingly. In turtlenecks and sunglasses, heads down and frustrated at the amount of light. 

She took more care to notice the Jones house now. She’d always known it lay right on the border of the treaty, but beyond that, she’d never really looked at it. She did now. A normal house. The front lawn was a little overgrown and the steps looked as if they’d been repaired numerous times. She could smell Jughead and FP’s scent, and as she pulled up on the sidewalk, she could see the motorbike propped up beside FP’s truck. She waited until she heard FP’s footsteps reach the front door before getting out of the car herself.

He looked up at her, and she could hear the surprised tone of his thoughts. She frowned inwardly, before realising why. Jughead’s heartbeat was slow and steady with sleep. “Betty, sorry,” FP apologised, walking towards her. “I think Jug’s taking the day off school. I thought he would’ve told you-”

“He doesn’t have my number, it’s not a problem, Mr Jones,” she said with a friendly smile. He relaxed a little. “I hope he gets better! Is he coming to school tomorrow?” 

FP nodded. “I think so. He just wanted the day to recuperate.” 

“I totally get it!” She chirped, “I’ll be here tomorrow! Have a good day at work, Mr Jones!”

He seemed enamoured by her chipperness for a Tuesday morning, and faux saluted her with his lunch in a movement that surprised her a little. She’d seen Jughead do the same thing, but with two fingers, to his friends when he was in a good mood. She wondered if they were aware of it. She got back into her car and to her surprise, found herself parking it just around the corner and then heading back to the house. 

Her curiosity was overwhelming her. A large tree hung to the side of the house facing the forest, and that’s where Jughead’s smell was strongest. A quick listen around told her that all the minds nearby weren’t near their windows, and she found herself jumping up into the branches. This was probably not the carefulness Cheryl and Jason had wanted from her, but she couldn’t help herself. She peered in through the window and froze. 

Dimly, she could see Jughead. Snoring lightly on his bed, the gentle thudding of his heart. So much could be learnt from a human’s bedroom, so much that she wouldn’t be able to learn from reading his mind. One of the windows was slightly open, and she drew in a full lungful of his scent to see how she’d manage. To her delight, the venom in her mouth didn’t rise to the surface. Perhaps exposure was the answer. It still burnt, of course it did, but it was much more bearable now. She remembered yesterday, when his breath had fanned over her face as he’d demanded the truth, and she groaned internally at her actions. God her  _ heart,  _ though dead, it had ached at the sharp, acidic smell of his tears. 

Overwhelmed with curiosity and the need to make sure he was okay, she found herself pushing open the window a little more. It creaked ever-so-slightly, but she didn’t think the sound could be heard by human ears. She pushed inside gently and was immediately accosted with the heat and scent of him.  _ Everywhere. So confined.  _ She drew in a very shaky breath. She felt like a recovering alcoholic stuck in an expensive wine cellar. Maybe this wasn’t the place to be. Not only was this all sorts of creepy and illegal, but she was only testing fate.

She turned back to the window when the sound of buzzing caught her attention. She walked at her normal speed across the room- that is, too fast to be seen, and saw Jughead’s phone on the floor. She picked it up and silenced the alarm, eyes catching on the hours old text from Reggie. 

**R u and Ethel not a thing anymore?** It read. She stared at it; seized. What did that mean? Were Ethel and Jughead ever a thing? They couldn’t have been, not since she’d read Ethel’s mind at the hospital yesterday. God it was so frustrating. Why couldn’t she just  _ know  _ what he thought? She set the phone back down on the floor, and as she straightened, she finally looked at Jughead. 

Lust grabbed her like a vice. His face, lax and relaxed from sleep, was half visible through his long locks. His lips, slightly parted, breathed in and out and the long spanse of his back rose and fell with the rhythm. She was surprised by the wiry muscle of his arms and his underwear hung low on his hips. She’d never been so gripped by the sight of flesh before. No wonder Ethel was enamoured. He was  _ gorgeous.  _ A renaissance painting in modern times, imbued with colour and carved by goddesses. A living, walking work of art. Was this how Veronica and Polly’s prediction came true? Was she going to be so besotted by this astounding creature that she wouldn’t be able to live without him? 

Her sexual desires had been dormant for quite some time. That had very little to do with being a vampire. Archie and Veronica had sex for days at a time some months, but for  _ Betty,  _ it had been a century of dormancy. Here he was. She wanted to touch him. The warmth he radiated was insane. Did all humans run this hot? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to see more of him-

What was she doing? Perving on a teenager in their bedroom? She was disgusted with herself, shaking her head ruefully at her own actions. Cheryl was right. She needed to control herself. She sighed, inhaling a little, before brightening. Yes, maybe she did need to control herself, but here she was. A vulnerable, enticing human before her. Perfectly poised and able to kill and she was more focused on whether or not he was going to the Winter Formal. 

Maybe she was a creeper, but she wasn’t a murderer. She was proud of herself. She took another deep breath and could calm the burning desire by a simple conscious focus not to kill him. She had something greater than bloodlust. She had  _ willpower.  _

All of a sudden, his phone started ringing, and she lurched herself under his bed. She tried not to think of the cliche;  _ monster under the bed _ . She heard him move about blearily, before his long, leanly muscled arm came into view as he clambered about for his phone. His fingers pushed around the floor for a puzzled moment. She briefly considered rushing out of the room. He’d never be able to detect her and her movement would come across like a breeze from outside. And yet...well, and yet.

“Uh, hello? He mumbled and her jaw dropped a little at his deep, sleepy ruffled voice. It was soft and sexy and for the first time in a lifetime, she felt something hot stir in the base of her stomach. He cleared his throat and Betty listened to the voice on the other side of the line. 

_ “Hey Jones. Making sure you aren’t dead.”  _

“Reggie?” Jughead yawned, “I thought you didn’t believe in phone calls. I thought they weren’t cool.” 

_ “I am the cool exception to every rule. You doing okay? Ethel’s not in either.”  _

“I’m not surprised,” he answered, and Betty watched as two feet suddenly swung into view. “I’m fine though, thanks for checking up on me. I feel special.” 

“ _ Oh you’re special alright, _ ” he snorted, “ _ you know that Betty isn’t in either? _ ” 

She heard Jughead’s heart skip a beat and she wondered what that meant. “She isn’t?” He asked, his tone indicating surprise. “Oh. I would’ve come in then.”

The pain hit her in the chest and she closed her eyes to ward away from it. “ _ You’re not seriously avoiding her? She saved your life!” _

“I know, I know, but it’s...it’s complicated.” He sighed, “anyway, shouldn’t you be...in lesson or something? What time is it?” 

_ “Just walking in now, just gone nine I think. Anyway, Josie wanted to- I know, I’m asking him now- Josie wanted to know if you wanted to come to Mainmouth? Just outside of town with us next weekend? There are some clubs she wants to check out?”  _

They were talking about the place where Jason had killed those people. What was wrong with them? She tried to pre-empt Jughead’s response. From what she knew, he didn’t like attention on him, and he seemed to prefer quiet places to loud music. “I dunno, Reg, it doesn’t sound like my scene.” 

Betty beamed victoriously as the mattress squeaked and he stood up. 

“I mean, third wheeling as you and Josie grind on each other to music? It seems a bit…”

_ “Yeah but Josie’s bringing her friend Melody. If Ethel’s not your thing anymore, you should definitely meet Melody.”  _

Betty hated Melody Valentine viciously before catching herself and scolding her thoughts. For all she knew, Melody was sweet and harmless. “I don’t really want-”

_ “Come on! Please? You’re totally skipping out on us this weekend!” _

Betty frowned. Was he? What was he doing this weekend? She wished Reggie were here so he could see the conversation through his memories. Was he meeting up with other people? Staying with his dad? Jughead sighed, padding over to the desk and shuffling through radom papers. “I guess so.”

_ “He said yes! You’re the best bro, see you tomorrow!”  _

“Bye,” Jughead murmured, setting down his phone and sighing. He hummed a tune under his breath that Betty was frustrated she couldn’t place, before meandering into the bathroom and shutting the door. She waited until she heard the stream of the shower before coming out. She scanned the books on the shelf and pursed her lips thoughtfully at the sight of a well-worn copy of  _ In Cold Blood.  _ She turned to the desk, a little more surprised to see printed articles of the murders that Jason had committed. She stiffened a little as she went through them. He’d been highlighting and annotating pieces of it. Scrawled in the handwriting she recognised from biology was a line from an article’s phrase “brutally mauled’ to a small post-it note that had  _ Atlanta murder?  _ Written on it.

“Crap,” she whispered to herself. He couldn’t mean- no. He couldn’t be talking about the Atlanta murders from Archie’s slip up five years ago. Who  _ was  _ Jughead Jones? She heard him start singing the theme song from a children’s television show that she faintly recognised, before she saw a picture of a much younger Jughead next to a little girl by his charger. His sister. Younger than him, then, by about four years. Betty stared at it, tempted to pick up the frame, but worried it would be a step too far. 

How much did he know? How much had he pieced together? He was too smart for his own good. She looked around the room, eyes landing on the laptop on the other side of the bed on the floor. She reached for it, and it came up with a password. She groaned in pure frustration.  _ Everyone else  _ literally  _ everyone else  _ she could just pluck the password from their mind, but now...she tilted it a little bit, letting the light shine on the keyboard so she could try to see the most typed letters, but they were all equally worn. And quite well worn too. He must like writing. She was pleased she’d pegged him right again.

Was it his sister’s name, maybe? Probably. Except she didn’t know what that was. Leaving was out of the question now. She had to stay and find out more. She was back under the bed by the time he came out of the shower, and she kept her eyes to the hardwood floor as he pulled on a pair of shorts and a blue sweater before heading downstairs. She followed silently, feeling slightly like a stalker, flitting to different hiding spots as he did incredibly human things. 

Like make breakfast. He looked good, better than he had yesterday. His skin flushed pink from the shower and his hair dark with water. His sweater was a beautiful shade of blue and hung a little loose on his frame. He pushed bread into the toaster and poured himself a glass of orange juice. She tried not to gag as he drank it whilst scrolling through his phone. 

She wondered what he was looking at, but didn’t have to move to find out, before music starting playing from the speakers. Music. Betty really pitied modern day human beings. They’d reached the crest of sound technology and then come crashing down. There was nothing to the smooth spin of a record to this grainy, little phone doing it’s best to churn out a symphony with nothing but metal parts. Still, music was a good way to get to know someone and she definitely wanted to know Jughead, so she listened to it.

A techno beat that indicated incredibly  _ modern  _ music (she tries not to be so disdainful) but then a pair of rather unique voices croon out the melody.  _ Here in the ashes your soul cries out...but don’t be afraid of these thunderclouds  _ it sang. It wasn’t awful, as far as music went, but it was Jughead’s response to the song that had captured her wholly. She wondered if he was even aware of his own body’s reactions to the song. He seemed to mould into the chair, his head tipping back and his left foot tapping to the beat. Betty rather hoped he’d start singing along since he clearly knew the song well, but he didn’t. He was jerked out of his state of serenity by the toast popping up and he tugged them out, buttering them and chewing away. She watched as he mosied around the kitchen and then into the living room. He would stop every few steps, and lean in towards a cupboard or a shelf, examine what he saw there, and move on. All the while, leaving a trail of crumbs. 

He paused on a photo above the mantle and Betty had to squint, but she could just about make out the two figures. Jughead and his sister again, this time on a beach, sun cream smeared onto their noses. His heart did a little stutter, a blip, before he leaned over to the next shelf. 

He stopped breathing for a moment, but before Betty could be alarmed, he was speaking. “No fucking way,” he whispered, shovelling the rest of his toast into his mouth and wiping his fingers on his shorts before reaching over to grab a book.  _ Helter Skelter  _ with a black hardback cover settled into his hands. It smelt new, like plastic and the bookshop near the hospital. Jughead had evidently noticed this too, because he was shaking his head fondly and touching the first couple of pages reverently. “Dad,” he muttered, shy and fond.

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ For a genius who’d lived over a hundred years, Betty was a little slow. His dad had bought it for him because he thought Jughead would have liked it. She stared harder at the front cover, before seeing a flash of a subtitle:  _ The Trial of Charles Manson.  _

She blinked. Who the  _ hell  _ was Jughead Jones? He was into serial killers and crime novels and just crime in general. Could it be any more perfect? She thought sarcastically. The boy who likes crime to be destined to fall in with a family of bloodsucking vampires. It was nice though, she supposed, for him to come from a parent who didn’t treat him right to one who was so obviously trying to make it work. 

A streak of sunlight fell across the room, breaking through the clouds, and Jughead turned towards it in eager surprise. He seemed to make his mind up about something, because he started moving with more energy. Betty watched as he collected a blanket out of the cupboard, pulled a bottle of water and a packet of chips from the kitchen before heading outside. She had to race up to FP’s bedroom to get a view of him as he stretched out on the front lawn. He was taking in the sunlight, she realised, leaning her head on her arms as she watched him read for a few hours. 

He was a fascinating subject. His microexpressions and his floppy hair. The way his fingers would twitch if he read something he was interested in, like he was yearning for a pen. She eased open the window in FP’s room so she could better hear his murmurings and was a little stunned to hear her name on his lips.

“Beauty and poise could mean a killer,” he mumbled to the novel, “but she seems too  _ nice.  _ Well, sometimes anyway. Maybe that’s a front or…” he groaned, closing the book in exasperation. “Or maybe I’m crazy and need to lay of the murder talk.” He soured a little. “That’s what mom would say.” He added bitterly under his breath and Betty paused guiltily. 

This was her fault. She didn’t want to be responsible for him thinking his horrid mother was right about anything. She watched him, thinking, as he headed back into the house. She shut FP’s window and watched as he collected his laptop from his room and took it downstairs. She was granted the view of him typing in his password and she took note. J-E-L-L-Y-B-E-A-N she frowned. Oh. She’d pegged him for more sentimental than that, but whatever he needed. She was greeted to the site of some tabs on super-humans and she smiled wryly. He was persistent, she’d give him that, but if the furthest he’d come was some internet research, they were probably safe for the time being. 

Feeling soothed, she made to leave, before taking one more deep inhale. His scent was mouth-watering, but the violent urges were muted. Perhaps it was similar to getting into cold water, the longer you were in it, the easier it was. Even as she slid out of his window and back towards her car, she knew that Veronica and Polly was right. She was going to get to know him. She was going to fix whatever she could. He was curious and clever and it was best to keep him on side regardless of what anyone thought. He was attractive and made her cold heart warm, and that was all without even having a conversation with her. 

It was going to be different now. 

Jughead Jones was an enigma, yes. But Betty? Betty was a code-breaker.

 

…

…

…

 

FP pushed his fingers through Jughead’s hair, feeling for the bump and nodding approvingly. “It’s a lot smaller,” he said; relieved. 

Jughead nodded, shoving his beanie back on as he slung his school bag over his shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” He smiled, “I’m making lasagne tonight, is that good?” 

His dad chuckled. “Sounds great, boy,”

Jughead saluted him, ducking out into the bright, grey morning. Betty’s glossy mini, which was less extravagant than he would have imagined considering the other car he’d seen her and her siblings drive to school in. She was in a long sleeved, deep blue cotton dress with a high ruffled collar and grey cotton tights. Her hair was up in a ponytail and her eyes were the greeny-blue he first remembered. She was leaning against her car, both of them  _ shining  _ on the Wednesday morning. He nodded at her, a little hesitantly. He was unsure where the both of them stood. He felt like a chess piece, a rook maybe, and one second she was an unassuming pawn but it felt forever like she was on the precipice of reaching the edge of the board- a queen only a move away. Cold and daunting suddenly back to chipper and friendly. 

“Morning, Juggie,” she called, waving her hand a little. 

He frowned.  _ Juggie.  _ He’d never had a nickname before. He nodded at her, “Hey Betty,” he said politely. “Uh, nice car.” 

“Thank you. It was a birthday present.” She reached out, handing him a slim pink object. He took it hesitantly, surprised to see it was her phone. “I thought you could control the music?” She said innocently, moving around to the drivers side. He nodded, clambering in beside her. The car certainly was new, it still smelt like fresh leather. He buckled himself in, before opening her spotify as she pulled out. 

He tried to think of something that wouldn’t offend her, something classic, and ending up playing  _ Highway to Hell  _ purely because he thought it was neutral territory. As it played through her hugely advanced speakers, he began to wonder, however, whether it was the wrong choice. 

“How was school yesterday?” She asked, “I didn’t head in. I think Monday finally caught up with me.” 

Oh right, of course. Reggie had said she hadn’t been in. “Oh, I uh- didn’t go in either.” He muttered. But- wait. Hadn’t his dad said that Betty had-

“Oh right, yeah,” she said, flicking herself in the forehead. “I knew that. I came over in the morning but your dad said you were still in bed. And a day off…” she shrugged, “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea.” She shot him a smile, pretty and perfect and he flushed in his seat. “Do you think we’ll be bombarded with questions?”

She was in a weirdly good mood. “I hope not,” he said honestly, frowning as they reached the main road. “You’re going a little fast,”

She blinked in surprise, glancing down at the speed and slowing accordingly. There was an amused smile on her face. Like she thought he was hilarious. Yup. He didn’t understand girls at all. “Betty,” he said softly, afraid he’d trigger her ice-queen persona, “about Monday, I just- I am grateful for you...however you did it, saving me. I don’t think I ever said that.”

He watched her face carefully. She smiled, a little sadly. “You don’t have to say thank you. But I do have to say sorry for the hospital, that was…” she shook her head. “Not okay.” 

“Are you sticking with the story that you were standing right next to me?” He asked, and she snorted.

“Yup.” She answered, popping the p. There was a smile on her face.

This, he could deal with. As long as she wasn’t going to force her truth on him, he was fine. This semi-agreement between them was more like the equal footing he preferred. He smiled a little, quietly pleased. “Well okay. We agree to disagree, huh?”

“Truce.”

“Truce.” He beamed. He drummed his hands against her dashboard, feeling enormously more comfortable. Of all the ways he’d seen this conversation going, it wasn’t nearly as well as this. “I will find out, though. I’m a right pain in the ass when I want to be.” 

Her laughter was like music and it filled the car better than the poor-tasted song he’d chosen. “I look forward to it.” She grinned. 

He grinned right back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are so lovely and wonderful and I will get around to replying! Thank you, darlings!
> 
> Mwah mwah x


	6. The Red Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead become friends. 
> 
> Kinda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha dudes i get this story might not be for everyone but please don't leave hate! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Jughead flushed at the slow, dawning look of awe that passed over Reggie and Josie’s face as Betty pulled into a parking spot. He knew if he looked around it wouldn’t just be the two of them that were staring. Apparently, this was unheard of: an Andrews hanging out with a non-Andrews. He pulled his beanie down a little further as she switched off the engine. He glanced around a little warily. “Why is this such an event?” 

Betty seemed unaffected by it, reaching back for her bag. “People don’t have enough to worry about. They’re just going to want to badger you about the crash.” She said simply, opening the door. Jughead followed suit and braced himself for the cold air. He shivered, shutting the door and looking over the roof at her. She was staring across the lot, so he followed her gaze. Archie and Jason were talking.

“Oh! Shit,” Jughead exclaimed, “I left Archie’s coat in my house- I’ll give it to him tomorrow?” 

“It’s fine,” Betty said easily, not looking away from her brothers. Jughead turned to look at them again. Jason was  _ glaring  _ at him. He blinked in surprise, scoffing.

“Wow. Jason hates me.” He muttered, more to himself than her. It was weird. He was probably the first person in Riverdale so far that hadn’t been nice instantly.

Betty whipped to him so fast he thought she’d hurt her neck. “What?”

“I uh- nothing,” he mumbled, adjusting his strap. “He’s just glaring at me that’s all.” She seemed relieved, and he frowned in confusion. “Anyway, thanks for the lift,” he took a small step away from her, towards where Reggie was still gawking. “I can get the bus back-”

“We have Biology first period, right?” She said brightly, ignoring his lame attempts to leave and coming around the car to walk beside him over to Reggie. The look on his face must have been comical, as he let her steer him towards them. Was she- what was  _ happening?  _ He threw a quick look over his shoulder and sure enough, Jason was still glaring. Archie though, had a ridiculously wide grin on his face. Maybe the whole family was crazy. 

“Jughead,” Reggie greeted, laughter in his voice. His eyes drifted over to Betty. “And Betty.” His blue orbs were glittering expectantly.

“Reggie, Josie,” she beamed. “I hope you don’t mind if I hang with you before class? Juggie was telling me how friendly you both were.”

His jaw unhinged, and he stared at her in shock. Reggie turned to him, face gleeful. “Boasting about me again, Jones?” 

He searched for words but none came. 

“He was. And Josie, I love your shirt,”

Josie’s smiled; wide, white and brilliant. “Thanks, girl! It was a present from my mom actually. I was thinking blue might be more my colour-”

“Oh, I remember this amazing blue headband you wore last term, maybe with that?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what i was thinking!” She gushed, as the two of them began to walk inside. Reggie and Jughead stood watching; frozen for a moment. 

“What the hell was that?” Reggie managed, and Jughead choked on air. The taller boy swung his arm over Jughead’s shoulders and guided him after the girls. “Oh you are giving me all the details, you sly dog! I knew you were leaving me in the dark about her!”

He shook his head. “There are no details at all! I have no idea why she’s doing this!” He squawked.

“She’s so into you, man!” A thought seemed to occur to him. “This doesn’t mean you’re allowed to cancel the double date with Melody, though! Josie’s really into the idea. I’m getting all the brownie points.” He cheered as if Josie wasn’t already his girlfriend.  

Jughead ignored the latter part. “She’s not- stop saying she’s into me. She’s not into me. I think she feels bad about the crash.” 

Reggie frowned, holding the door open so Jughead could duck under his arm. He did so, rolling his eyes at the act of chivalry. “But why? She saved you?”

Best tread carefully, he thought to himself. “Yeah but we had a fight in the hospital after. I think she’s trying to make it up to me.” 

Luckily for him, Reggie didn’t pry. He accepted the answer and they followed the girls into the warm rec room. Josie and Betty were talking easily on the sofa and Jughead tried to wrap his head around it. He’d never even seen Betty talk to another student that wasn’t her sibling- but then again, she’d talked to  _ him  _ hadn’t she? And he’d only been here for a week, so what did he know? But the other students still seemed to be staring in awe. Perhaps Betty had talked to students before, but she certainly hadn’t socialised with them so willingly. 

He rubbed his face in confusion. What was she doing? Had she had a fight with her family? Maybe that was why Jason had been glaring? Or maybe he was just blowing this entire thing out of proportion. “Wow, you need to relax.” Reggie snorted, catching a glimpse of Jughead’s twisted face. “Chill bro, she probably just wants to be friends.” He punched his shoulder lightly. “People like you.” 

It seemed unlikely, but he didn’t rule it out. She had been astoundingly pleasant in the car. He just hadn’t thought it would extend past that. He consciously tried to relax his shoulders. It was fine. Everything was fine. He nodded, and Reggie whooped victoriously as they headed over to sit by the girls. He was winded by the contrast between Josie and Betty. The snow whiteness of the blonde made Josie’s ebony skin look all the darker. They were both beautiful, of course, but there was something...distinctively  _ other  _ about Betty’s beauty. Whereas he could see a myriad of freckles along Josie’s nose, Betty’s skin looked like porcelaine. Did it have something to do with the speed? He tapped his fingers against his knee curiously. Maybe he should start writing down all the things that set her apart. 

“So Betty,” Reggie began, never one for tact. “Did you think you’d die when that truck came rushing over?” He leaned forward, intrigued and Josie reached over to smack him lightly. 

Betty laughed a little, looking appropriately excited and traumatised. Jughead didn’t think she’d ever been in any danger from Ethel’s mistake. “It happened so fast.” She said, and he frowned again. He looked at Josie and Reggie to see if they believed her, but it looked like they did. “I was just really lucky. And so was Jughead,” she gestured to him. “Right?”

He kept his eyes on her, nodding slowly. Was this some sort of test? Was she looking to see if he told anyone about what he’d noticed? He’d already said he wouldn’t. “I-” the bell rang loudly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The four of them stood up and headed through the hallways to class. They passed Veronica on the way and she and Betty high-fived as they passed each other. It was irritatingly normal and he wondered what she was trying to prove. 

They filed into class and walked to their desks like they were just normal students. He started unpacking his things with a little more force than necessary and felt the heat of Betty’s eyes on him. With a humf he looked up at her. “I don’t get it.” He admitted to her perfectly arched eyebrow and unasked question. “What are you doing?”

She pressed her lips together in a small smile. “Making friends?” She hedged.

He stared at her; aghast. “Is that what we are? Friends? Because you’re giving me whiplash, Betty to be honest.” He answered in nothing short of a hiss.

He didn’t exactly regret saying it, but he could have done without the look of hurt that passed quick as a flash across her face. “I’m  _ trying,  _ Jughead,” she whispered earnestly. “I’d like for us to be…”

“Friends?” He finished, still puzzled.

She nodded.

It was all so bizarre. He massaged his temples a little, leaning on his elbows and trying to take stock. “Will you ever tell me what...what you are?” He whispered carefully. He saw her stiffen in his peripheral, and the soft movement of her ponytail told him she was shaking her head. “Then we can’t really be friends, Betty,” he groaned. An idea struck him suddenly. “Wait- if i guess, would you at least...I don’t know, nod if I was right?” He looked up at her eagerly, eyes alight with excitement.

She was smiling, a genuine curve of her lips. “If you guess?” She verified cautiously. 

He nodded. “Yeah. You don’t even have to say yes, you just have to not say no.” 

A pause. “That sounds okay.” She said eventually, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He grinned at her, sticking out his hand. She stared at it for a long moment, and just as he was starting to think she wasn’t going to touch him, she reached over to peck his cheek. Her face was still cold from outside, but he could barely tell under his bright, burning blush. “Sorry,” she breathed, “I’m not big on shaking hands.”

“No, that’s-” his voice broke a little, and he hurried to clear it. “That’s fine.” He nodded, heart pounding in his chest frantically. “So, friends?”

“Friends.” She bit her bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing slightly. He watched the movements of her face with mild adoration. “What do friends do exactly?”

He laughed despite himself, surprised by the question. She laughed too, and he reached for his pencil case. “I don’t actually know, you know,” he chuckled. “I’m pretty new at this. I think they hang out, help each other out,” he gestured to her. “You’re already driving me to school, so that’s good.” 

“They have each other’s phone numbers, don’t they?” 

He could hear Reggie’s voice in his head like he’d known the guy for years.  _ She’s asking for your number! She’s into you!  _ He ignored it, and nodded, reaching for his phone. “Yeah,” he answered, trying to keep his voice level. He didn’t want to give off the vibe that she was going to be the first girl to ever have his phone number. She was, obviously, but it would probably be best she didn’t know that. She took it and typed in her name and number. 

“So,” she began, still fiddling with the contact info. “Are you going to Winter Formal?” 

He blinked. Was that...was she..? She couldn’t be. He just had to  _ look  _ at her to tell she could do a hell of a lot better than him. But then again, she’d just admitted she didn’t have many friends outside of her unusual family situation. “I uh- don’t think so,” he admitted, looking up at her from under his lashes as he shaded in a corner of his paper. He was trying to gauge her emotions; disappointment or impassiveness, perhaps? She, oddly enough, looked rather pleased. 

“Me neither.” She chimed, taking him by surprise again. It must have shown on his face because she giggled before expanding. “Well, Veronica and Archie and Polly and Jason are going together, so I was going to go with Cheryl for moral support but…” her voice drifted a little. “We haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye lately.” 

Cheryl was the frightening looking red-head that Kevin had warned him about. “That sucks,” he offered. “If I can offer some advice?” She looked at him with wide, interested eyes and he tried to tread carefully. How could he say this without coming across like a jerk? “Maybe try to make it up with her sooner rather than later.” He remembered yelling at Jellybean a lifetime ago for getting chocolate spread on the sofa. “Best not to spend your time fighting. I wouldn’t have if I’d known.” 

Her rose lips parted with comprehension, and she turned to look down at his phone which was still in her hands. “Wise words.” She said quietly, pushing his phone across the table to him. He looked at the new contact.  **Betty Cooper** with the pink, flowering heart emoji beside it was now saved into his phone. He half smiled; the blossoming petals suited her. 

“Put the crown emoji by my name,” he insisted. “It’s my signature.” 

She laughed loudly, attracting the attention of a few other students, but that just sent them both into another round of laughter. They stopped only when the teacher walked in and called for quiet.

…

…

…

“You should eat more,” Betty urged, as they shuffled through the cafeteria line. Jughead snorted, gesturing to his already piled-high tray. She frowned. He was so  _ thin.  _ She lifted some salad onto her plate for show, resisting the urge to gag at the sight of the sloppy human food. 

_ Fuck this, something  _ _ must  _ _ have happened between the two of them  _ Reggie thought to himself, loading another burger onto his tray. Betty tried not to smile as they all reached the end. Josie and Kevin were already sitting down. She saw herself and Jughead through Kevin’s gossiping eyes. She looked warm, she decided. A whole morning of being with Jughead had rubbed off on her a little, and her hands were no longer ice cold. They carried the residual warmth that he emanated. It lingered on her marble skin like a caress even though he’d never actually touched her. 

Bar that peck on the cheek of course. If she could blush, she would have. He’d been so adorable. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, his thick hoodie stopping any skin-contact but they looked nice together, she thought, through Kevin’s eyes. Complimentary with his messy mop of dark hair and her pristine blonde. He was taller than her, but slender enough not to look imposing. 

_ Are you going to sit with them instead of us?  _ Cheryl thought viciously, and Betty faltered a little. She turned to Jughead, aware that all her siblings would be able to hear her. “I’m going to do what you said- about Cheryl.”

He nodded in understanding, a small smile on his face. “Good luck. I’m hoping she’s not as scary as she looks.”

“She definitely is. But we should…” she hovered a little uncertainly. “Well, if neither of us are going to the formal maybe we could do something else?” As soon as she’s said it her brain leapt into stress mode. What do iduman beings do? Probably not race each other to the Grand Canyon or play baseball during thunderstorms. “We could see a movie!” She exclaims, a little too loudly if his wince is anything to go by. She quietens her voice, proud of herself. “Yeah, a movie, I’m into-” What had he had up on his wall? Pulp Fiction? “-crime and horror and...stuff.” 

He blinked bemusedly, but nodded. “Uh, sure that sounds good.” He looks over at Reggie’s who’s waiting for him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, and she tries not to be so pleased that he sounds, dare she say it, hopeful. 

“Bright and early.”

He smiles like he still thinks she’s a bit weird, but that he likes it. She watches as he and Reggie head over to their friends and she turns to face the music. Cheryl’s frosty brand of hell isn’t really what she wants to do but Jughead’s right. Family is family. 

_ You so love him, B.  _ Veronica thinks as she and Archie thumb wrestle. 

_ How can she be so close to him without…. _ Jason thinks, but Betty does her best to drown it out. Archie and Polly’s thoughts are much nicer. Archie’s wondering whether or not he can talk Veronica into elk-hunting down near one of the great lakes and Polly’s searching cute cats on instagram. Betty sets down her tray and looks over at Cheryl. “Cheryl, you know I’m sorry, right? This is just a little different to what I’m used to. I am trying.”

_ I went to the house yesterday night. I could smell you all over it. Just how hard are you trying? _

Betty bites down the rising flood of possessiveness. Cheryl was at his house. She shouldn’t have left him. What would have happened if the red-head had changed her mind? She tries to keep her voice calm and knows that only Jason will be able to read her desperate anger. He does hear it, but he ignores it in the wake of Polly showing him something cute on her phone. “I went to build up a tolerance to his scent.” She says with a deep breath. “And if you just saw our interaction, you’ll realise it’s working.”

Cheryl flicks her hair over her shoulder, a facade of boredom on her features even though her mind betrays her. She’s curious. She’s wondering whether Betty really has found her soulmate and if so; why she’s making it so difficult?

It’s easy to understand her frustration. The future that Polly sees is vague but the flashes of it she can glimpse show Jughead and Betty side by side, they show Jughead laughing with the others and in one vision that Betty hates furiously: he’s one of them. Cheryl and Hermione both think he should be bitten. Betty almost loathes them for their easily lack of morales in the matter. She doesn’t love him, like Veronica thinks, not yet anyway. But she knows that she will. And she also knows that she won’t ever condemn him to a life of being like them. A quick peek into Cheryl’s mind, the sadness and anger there, is enough to remind her of why.

He should be allowed the right to grow up, get older, have kids. The right to a  _ life.  _ She looks up as someone thinks her name, turning to see Midge and Nancy standing by the windows of the cafeteria. They’re thinking and talking about Jughead.

“I think Betty Cooper likes him, though,” Midge says doubtfully, pursing her lips. Betty can see Jughead through their eyes now; he’s got his body tipped back with laughter as Reggie assaults him with food. Josie and Kevin look on with mild disgust. Nancy brushes a long, brown lock over her shoulder and scoffs. “I’m serious. They arrived to school together today, apparently. Like, she drove him.” 

That makes Nancy waver. But she shakes her head. “No. No way. Andrews girls date Andrews boys, remember?” 

Midge rolls her eyes. “But there are no more Andrews boys. Cheryl and Betty are alone.”

Betty tries not to wince over her blase accuracy. Midge turns to look at Jughead again. She’s got a boyfriend, but she’s appreciating the subtle warmth of the boy at the table.  _ He is hot  _ she thinks to herself,  _ he and Betty might look quite nice together.  _ Nancy bites her lip hard and gives a little bob. “Okay fine. Not today then, but I  _ am  _ going to ask him to the Formal.” 

Betty immediately sizes the girl up as competition. Nancy is pretty. Conventionally prettier than Ethel is, and more popular too. She’s a cheerleader and she’s tall, probably a little taller than Jughead, with tanned skin and long wavy hair down to her waist. Big brown eyes and a nice smile. Betty clenches her fists under the table; nails digging into the stone of her palm. “Have you ever even talked to him?” Midge asks curiously. 

The blonde vampire is suddenly greeted to every interaction Nancy and Jughead have ever had. They share History together. She’d needed a pencil and he’d given her one. She’d thought his smile was handsome. Betty resists the urge to roll her eyes. Their relationship isn’t exactly oozing with history. “A few times,” she hums. “I don’t think he has a girlfriend. And he can’t seriously want Betty, I mean come on. They’re  _ freaky.”  _

Midge glances over to their table and Betty looks away hurriedly. “I guess so.” She agrees. And then they start talking about an English assignment.

_ She’s jealous  _ Jason thinks confusedly. Betty’s eyes snap up to him and he watches his thoughts.

Oh  _ god,  _ she is, isn’t she? That’s what this hot, bubbling feeling is inside her. Jealousy. She’s jealous that these other, normal, pretty girls like Jughead too. It’s so human, it’s so petty, and it shouldn’t matter. Because she’s never going to do anything with Jughead, she just wants to be his friend- that’s what she’d said, wasn’t it? Though she wants to be able to touch him in other ways, it isn’t sensible. It isn’t right. She wants to be his friend because that way she can make sure he doesn’t find out too much, and she can also have a shot at happiness. 

Yes, she tells herself, that’s what she wants.    
  
  
  


_ I think he makes you happy,  _ Archie thinks as the two of them stand by Betty’s mini at the end of the day. He and Veronica are driving home with her because the others are going shopping just outside of town.  _ You know whatever happens, I’m on your side, right?  _

Betty loops her arm through where Archie has his stuck in his pocket and rests her head on his shoulder. A few students who pass them think  _ incest  _ but Betty ignores them. “I know, Archie,” she sighs. “And I love you so much for it.” 

He shrugs like it’s nothing, but to Betty, it’s everything. He’s so unfailingly loyal. He really is Fred’s son. 

She straightens up as Jughead comes out of the building and ignores Archie’s amused chuckle. He’s walking beside Josie and Reggie, but he’s got his phone pressed to his ear. He’s laughing. Who’s making him laugh? Who’s he talking to?

She gets her answer as the voice on the phone crinkles through.  _ “So no crazy questions to worry about then?”  _ Ethel asks. 

He shakes his head merrily. “Nah, it’s like people have already forgotten. We’re an old news story now,” 

_ “Okay. That’s good. I’ll be in tomorrow!”  _

“Awesome, I’ll see you in French?” 

_ “Definitely! Bye, Jughead!”  _

He bids her goodbye before hanging up. Josie and Reggie are kissing each other goodbye as if they’re not going to see each other for years, and Jughead politely looks away. Which means he finds Betty’s eyes. She and Archie both wave at him. He makes a little noise of disbelief under his breath, but waves back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jug!” Josie calls, as she heads towards her car. “And we’re still on for next weekend?”  _ With Melody?  _ She adds mentally. 

He nods at her. “Definitely,” Once she’s in her car, he turns to Reggie with an exasperated look. “You know, I’m beginning to feel bad for Melody and I’ve never even met her.”

Reggie unlocks his car and he and Jughead clamber up into the Jeep. “You promised, bro. Besides, Mel is really nice. She’s no Betty-”

“Please stop-”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Reggie snorts, rolling down his window as he starts to reverse. Betty’s grateful for his thoughts. He’s worried about causing another accident, especially with Jughead involved, so he’s extra vigilante. He checks all his blind spots for the first time since he passed his test. “Was that a dream I had when I saw Betty asking you go out on a date with her?” 

Jughead flushes in Reggie’s mind, buckling himself in. “It wasn’t a date.”

Reggie doesn’t believe him, Betty can hear that much, but he lets it drop. She suddenly has the feeling Reggie and Archie might make quite good friends. “Whatever, bro. I have my playstation in the trunk, wanna hang at yours?” 

Jughead looks pleasantly surprised, and he cracks his knuckles excitedly. “Only if you want me to spend a few hours thrashing you.”

Reggie laughs loudly, unabashedly. “You’re on, Jones.” 

She understands a little more now. Jughead’s Reggie is her Archie. She appreciates the sharp, cheek-boned asian boy more than she ever has before. Humans are...some of them, at least, are a little bit wonderful. She’s suddenly greeted to Archie’s thoughts on Veronica as the raven-haired vampire walks over. He could wax sheets of poetry with the thoughts he has about his soulmate. She looks like an angel in his eyes, and Betty smiles to herself as Veronica looks up to see Archie. Her thoughts almost an exact mirror of his. They’re in love. Betty wonders what that feels like.

…

…

…

Betty’s car is already outside and Jughead wishes he actually woke up when his alarm told him to. He starts cramming all his various papers into his bag, tripping over his own feet as his dad watches; sipping his tea leisurely. “I like that Reggie boy,” FP says over the rim of his mug as Jughead victoriously discovers his algebra textbook and throws it into the gaping cavernous mess that is his satchel. “He’s the one you’re going out of town with next weekend, huh?” 

Jughead nods distractedly; hyper aware of the glistening car just outside that he can see through the window. “Yeah, him and his girlfriend Josie. They’re trying to set me up I think.” 

FP chuckles, like he thinks the idea of Jughead being with anyone but Betty is futile. “Well, be careful out there. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that’s where all the murders happened a few months ago. Stick with your group.”

Jughead shot his dad a fond look. “I’ll be safe.”

His father nodded. “Make sure you are. Text me as often as you can.”

Jughead remembered a time once back in Phoenix when he’d run away from home. He’d come back three weeks later only to realise his mom hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “I will,” he said, feeling a little shy. “Anyway, Betty’s waiting-”

“Go get that girl, boy,” 

Jughead ignored him, tempted to flip him the bird but unsure if that was the right dynamic for their relationship yet. He skidded out of the front door, and there she was; a vision today in scarlet. A red flared skirt with a burgundy cardigan over a maroon tank top. Her shoes were flat pumps, with little scarlet gems that sparkled in the early morning light. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out they were real rubies. Her hair was up in a ponytail again, and she leaned against her car with the casual ease of a supermodel. “Morning,” she beamed, holding out a polystyrene cup. 

He rushed towards her, stumbling over his apologies for waking up late. She brushed them all away; handing him the cup. It was filled with coffee. “Is that for me?” He asked stupidly, already reaching for it. She laughed, nodding. 

“I stopped by a coffee shop on my way over. Thought you might like a pick me up.”

He nodded gratefully, taking a deep sip. He groaned gutterally. It was perfect.  _ Of course.  _ It was as if she’d known he would be late. Eyeing her a little suspiciously, but mostly thankfully, they got into the car. He watched as she took great care to click in her seatbelt and pull out of his drive. She fiddled with the buttons for a moment before handing her his phone. “Oh right,” he remembered the music, and he fiddled for her spotify. He sipped the coffee, trying to think of a song.

_ Stairway to Heaven  _ flickered into his mind and he smiled a little wryly. Oh there was a definite theme. The song started playing and he relaxed into watching the scenery go by. The Andrews were fast drivers, he knew that from seeing Cheryl leave the lot at school; like she was in a formula one race rather than a journey home. But he appreciated Betty going a little more slowly. As he drank his coffee, he wondered whether or not he should broach the subject of his theories. He had one he didn’t mind. 

Well, Spiderman had been on television last night and he and Reggie had watched it happily. Radioactivity wasn’t so far fetched, was it? A lot of superheroes got their powers that way. Maybe the entire family had been exposed or something? 

He glanced at her out of his peripheral. She was humming along to the song. It was a calm silence, and he didn’t want to make it awkward, but his curiosity was thrumming inside him. Here he was sitting in a car with someone who wasn’t  _ normal.  _ Someone who had something more to them. It was too intriguing to let pass by. He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic, so decided to dive straight in. “Radioactive spider?” He blurted out over the music. 

She paused, before a wide smile spread across her face. “I thought you’d come up with something a little better than that.” She teased gleefully. He rolled his eyes, scratching that off his list. “So, what are your plans for the weekend?” 

He took another sip of his coffee, humming appreciatively. He didn’t know a lot about coffee but he knew this one must have been expensive. “Me and my dad are going down to the Southside,” he admired the rolling forestry. “I’ve never seen it. Is it more of the same?” He gestured to the lush wildlife.

She hesitated. “I don’t go there much, but there are rocky beaches and a lot of caves from what I remember.”

He hummed. “Worth taking my camera?” 

“You take photographs?” She asked, a happy, curious tone to her voice. 

“Sometimes, I used to a lot, I mean, I think my camera is still in my room back in Phoenix, but I could buy one before we head out.” He wasn’t an avid photographer, but he could remember the sunrises back in Phoenix; the way the sun had glittered along the distance. The feeling of his lashes against the metal, the moment of serenity as he captured the peaceful beauty of the ever-glowing distance. It had taken him out of his situation for a moment, transcended him above his difficult home life. But there was no such need for something like that now. It might be nice, he thought to himself. To leave the camera where it belonged; in the past. “Maybe I’ll just use my phone.” She turned to look at him, like he was unfathomable, and he jerked his eyes towards the road after a long moment passed. Should she be watching the other cars? She smiled, as if amused, and turned back- almost reluctantly, to looking straight ahead. “So do you uh...have any hobbies?” 

“Hobbies?” She slid her hand across the steering wheel back into the ten and two position. “I like to read. I play piano. I love swimming. Also ballet.”

He blinked, a thousand images racing through his head. Betty with her nose buried in a novel, Betty with her perfect posture playing a melodious tune. He could see her kicking her feet, moving like a mermaid beneath the waves, and he could see her spinning on the tips of her toes to Claire de lune. They were all distractingly attractive thoughts and he could feel himself being carried away with them. 

“Do you play any instruments?” She asked, anchoring him to the ground. 

He laughed in surprise. “Uh no, tone deaf. I think I tried to get into music as a kid but I could only really master the recorder, and even then…” he shook his hand to indicate how shaky his understanding was and she giggled. Her laugh was so nice. It sent shivers down his spine and he felt his cheeks flush hot red.  _ Christ,  _ he was attracted to her. 

“Oh hey,” she breathed suddenly, “do you mind if I open a window?” She didn’t wait for his answer, rolling down the drivers side and bringing a cold breeze into the car. He shivered a little, crossing his arms and she turned to him apologetically. “Sorry, I just run hot.” 

He nodded. “It’s okay, it’s your car, anyway,” It did strike him as a little odd. She didn’t  _ look  _ like she ran hot. She seemed perpetually cool. Perhaps it was just the paleness of her skin. He was shaking his knee in time with the song, and wanted to drum against the dashboard, but Betty still looked a little pained.  Maybe she had a headache? Or a temperature? After a moment, he pushed the button to his side and rolled down the passenger window also. She seemed to sag a little bit as the current flowed through the whole car. “Thank you, Juggie,” she mumbled; embarrassed. 

He felt his mouth curve up into a grin. She was cute when she was embarrassed. Different from the beauty of effortless perfection she so often was. “No worries,” he said quietly, leaning forward to tap out the beat with his fingers. 

…

…

…

She moved like a ghost from shadow to shadow, the slow steady heartbeats of both Jones men told her what she needed to know: they were both asleep. Why was she here? She didn’t quite know. His scent today had been delectable and maybe she wanted to make sure it never became more than she could control. Or maybe it was the fact that Cheryl had come to see him unbeknownst to her. Maybe it was pure curiosity. He was such a wondrous enigma and she enjoyed spending time with him. Biology was swiftly becoming her favourite subject, whereas before she’d been impartial to it. She liked working with him, walking down corridors with him. She liked that her car still smelled faintly of him.

It was something Veronica had noticed that afternoon as she and Archie had slid into Betty’s mini.  _ Oh, I finally see the distinction. Floral.  _ She’d thought to herself. Betty agreed, though she could go into far more detail. Like lavender, heady and heavy and  _ potent,  _ and god what she’d do for a taste-

She pushed the thoughts out of her head as she scaled the side of the house and eased open his window. It was like setting foot into a burning building. His warmth was a blaze that filled the room and she took in a careful lungful. Yes. There was the familiar burn down her throat. She swallowed down her venom, and let her superior eyes focus on him. He was splayed out like a starfish on the bed, his pillow no longer under his head so he was almost entirely flat. The blanket was twisted around his ankles. He hadn’t slept soundly, she deduced. He’d been tossing and turning earlier in the night. She wished she’d been there to see it. 

Moving slowly across his room towards his desk, she saw his laptop beside a notebook. It wasn’t new, but it hadn’t been used much. With one eye on the sleeping beauty to her right, she opened the notebook to the most recent page. 

_ -Beauty _

_ -Paleness _

_ -Speed _

_ \- money?  _

_ \- Not a radioactive spider  _

_ \- mermaid? _

_ \- enchantress? _

_ \- have you ever seen them eat?  _

Betty stared at the page, her stomach churning a familiar mix of fondness and stress. They weren’t foreign feelings when they came to the blue haired boy. Still, she murmured to herself, a little bit relieved. He had no idea. He never would, hopefully.

Now that she’d drawn in a few breaths of his intoxicating scent, she could detect the smell of someone else. FP and Reggie were slightly mingled amongst it all. She simultaneously hated and liked it. It was distracting from the smell of Jughead, but it was also tainting it. She sat down carefully in his desk chair, casting her eyes over his slumbering features. His eyelids moved as he dreamt, and his parted lips released his sweet breath into the room. She let her gaze move slowly away from his face - skipping past his neck- to his bare chest. Lightly toned and pale in the moonlight; there was a small beauty mark under his left pec. His skin looked so soft, so supple, she wanted to brush her fingers against it. 

Bravely, she reached out, extending her arm towards the hand that was closest to her. His fingers were slightly curled, his palm facing the ceiling. They twitched just before she plucked up the courage, and he snuffled a little, turning his face away from her. It revealed the long line of his neck and she stared at it. She could hear his pulse beating away, sustaining his fragile human body, that lovely, burning blood coursing its way through his veins. It didn’t help that he had a rather attractive neck with prominent collarbones and a sharp jaw to frame it. 

“Cold, Betty,” he whispered, barely forming the words on his lips. 

She stared in shock. He sometimes  _ talked  _ in his sleep? Her entire focus shifted from his blood to his brain and she bore her eyes into his forehead as if that would help. What was he dreaming of? Was he dreaming of her? Did he know another Betty? And cold? Cold like temperature? Cold like mannerisms? Her frustration mounted and she waited; leaning forward, to see if he would say anymore. 

“JB,” he mumbled, a crease forming between his brows. 

Betty frowned. What did  _ that  _ mean? JB? Jellybean? Did that have more significance than she’d thought? So much so that he dreamt about it? What did it all mean? She scraped her fingers through her hair in pure vexation. The only human being who’s mind she  _ wanted  _ to read and she couldn’t. The interest in his thoughts waylaid her thirst for him, and she could think of nothing but his thoughts despite the fact she was essentially bathing in his scent. 

“Betty,” he sighed again, his last words for the night, and if Betty could have dreamed, she too would have dreamt of his smile as he said it; small, private and adoring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment darlings! mwah mwah


	7. The Dark Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a sunny Monday, Jughead decides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed and inspired by the lovely HufflepuffBetty who teaches me new things everyday! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Southside is a complex landscape. Dark black rocks jut out of fern-covered cliff faces; balancing over the choppy obsidian waves like half aborted stone jets of movement. Seagulls swoop low over the coffee-coloured sands. Stones and pebbles here and there glitter gold like they’ve caught the sun and retained its shine even though it doesn’t make an appearance on the grey, Saturday afternoon. The ever-present, though now distant, greenery of the Northside encroached around the perimeter. Ocean against forest. They’re separated only by the dangerous, cedar crags that harbour pine leaves and seaweed alike. A rainbow of green crawls down into the ocean or up towards the bark and the rusty sky swings on its cloud hinges as it watches the battle of nature; erosion and intrusion between the two places. 

Jughead watches too. He’s perched on an opal rock with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms looped over his knees. It’s beautiful. And there are a lot of caves, just like Betty said, but he feels...untethered. He misses Reggie. He’s an outsider here, and although his dad seems to know everyone, he certainly doesn’t know anyone. He doesn’t know the men working on the bikes up on the tarmac where the shore ends. He doesn’t know the women clapping as their toddlers trip and stumble in the sand. 

“You should go for a swim.” Comes a voice, and he startles so hard that he slips off the rock. He catches himself in the sand and hurries to stand up. A girl with dark skin and bright pink hair is looking up at him; amused. 

He flounders for a second. “Uh- what?” 

“A swim.” She nods towards the water, just as a strong breeze whips around both of them. 

He looks from her, to the sea, and then back to her and offers a rueful smile. “It might be a bit cold.” 

She rolls her eyes, and gestures further up the beach. There are a number of guys there, around his age, all peeling off into their swim trunks. “You’re welcome to join us if you’re not a total wuss.” And then she pushes past him, tugging off her many layers as she goes. He turns to see the other guys as they start coming down the beach. They’re all incredibly muscular and broad shouldered. What do they feed them down here? One of them pauses near him, nose wrinkling in what Jughead can only assume is distaste. He tosses him a pair of swimming trunks that Jughead barely manages to catch given how it changes direction in the wind. He’s a little surprised by how judgemental these total strangers are but…

You only live once, he supposes. He pulls off his jumper and unbuttons his jeans, shivering violently in the freezing air. The rest of them barely look effected and he wonders if he should maybe eat more vegetables. 

Soon, he’s standing at the edge of the water as it laps against his toes.  _ Jesus  _ it’s cold. Suddenly he rather desperately misses those long, hot days back in Phoenix, where the sun would never stop shining and sweat would drip down your spine over every step. He takes a moment before nodding. Quickest way is to get it over with, and with that thought in mind, not allowing himself another second to think about it, he runs forward and dives into the waves. 

The water is like ice around him. He surfaces immediately, teeth chattering as the waves slosh around his chest. The girl with pink hair swims over to him, smiling as he drags his hair back from his face. “Holy shit that’s cold.” He manages, paddling. She laughs. 

“Toni Topaz.” She greets. She has a nice smile and her hair goes amethyst with the wet. 

“Jughead Jones.” He nods, coughing up a little sea water. The boy who gave him the trunks swims over then, looking perfectly at ease amongst the choppy waters. Jughead nods at him too. His legs no longer feel as freezing, but he isn’t sure if that’s because he’s numb or not. He can’t see down through the black waves to check if they’re still moving.

“FP’s kid,” he says, and Jughead nods, still a little awed at how everyone seems to know his dad. “I’m Sweet Pea. You’ve got balls.” He splashes the water and Jughead manages a shaky smile. 

“Or no sense of self preservation.” He offers. Sweet Pea and Toni laugh like they’re privy to some joke he’s not a part of. “Hey, not that this isn’t exhilarating, but how about cave-exploring? Gotta be warmer than this.” He shivers again. Toni rolls her eyes, swimming away towards another one of the guys, but Sweet Pea looks a little bit more pitying. “Please?” Jughead tries, and Sweet Pea buckles.

He splashes him in mild annoyance but nods and gestures back to the shore. “Fine, but not until we’ve swum to that buoy.” He points away from the shore, towards the bobbing orange buoy. “It gets easier.” 

It’s a compromise and Jughead can deal with compromises. Trusting that his legs are still actually moving beneath them, he nods.  

  
  


His muscles ache in the best way by the end of the day. After swimming to the buoy, which had included a lot of waiting and name-calling from Sweet Pea, they’d both gone into one of the caves embedded into the cliff wall. It had been too dark to see much, but their voices had echoed and Jughead had run his hands across the rocky planes and marvelled a little at the natural beauty. 

When they’d got back to the bay, darkness had fallen and the tide had swept up and soaked all his clothes. A guy named Fangs had been happy to provide a change, and now he was currently sat with the others around the beach fire, a heated towel over his shoulders. For some reason, he’s the only one to have one. Fangs’ shirt was baggy on his frame and the shorts were too, but he was too happy to complain; curling into the heat of the flames gratefully. 

Toni laughed at him, shuffling closer to him on one of the logs and Jughead gaped in surprise at the heat she emanated. 

“Shit,” he laughs, unsure whether to turn to her or the fire. “You’re so  _ warm.”  _

She slides her arm around his waist, and then Sweet Pea leans out to offer him one of the sausages they’ve just cooked in the fire. It burns the roof of his mouth, but he lets it. “We’re made of stronger stuff down here in the Southside, isn’t that right guys?” She asks, and they all whoop, cheering; their shadows raised like dancers that flicker in the fire’s light. 

He swallows another piece of sausage, pushing his toes across the sand towards the fire. “Well you all  _ look  _ like you’re out of a gym commercial. Seriously, everyone in Riverdale seems almost unnaturally good looking.” 

Sweet Pea puffed up with pride and Fangs shoved him a little. “What?” He beseeched with a whine. “He’s not wrong. We’re  _ fine.”  _ He dragged out the e sound and Jughead laughed around his food. “Okay, fine, let’s talk about something else. How about scary stories?” 

Jughead snorted, “ghost stories around the fire? Isn’t that a bit of a cliche?” 

Toni beamed, reaching into her bag for a torch despite the fact that the amber flames cast enough of a glow to see. “Oh no, Jones. You haven’t heard  _ our  _ stories. No ghosts here, just real  _ monsters.”  _

He got comfortable and listened. Old legends and native folktales. Interesting enough and nothing he’d ever quite heard before. The others were only partially listening, obviously already familiar with the tales, but he hung on Toni’s every word, especially as she started talking about the shadow dwellers. He frowned to himself; thinking. Shadow-dwellers and snow-people, hunting animals instead of people, but monsters all the same. 

“Are you talking about vampires?” He blurted, watching everyone stiffen a little. 

Toni paused in her story and laughed. “Um, no?”

“Right,” he frowned again, mind still whirring. Vampires did make sense except- well, except for that fact that they walked around during the day. But he  _ had  _ never seen them eat. They were all deathly pale but...he’d seen her smile. No especially sharp canines there. He’d have to look up Southside legends when he got home. 

“Vampires don’t exist,” Fangs reminded him diligently. “You get that these are just stories, right?”

“Yeah, I get it-”

“You ready to go, Jug?” Came FP’s voice as he approached the huddle on the beach. Jughead watched the happiness that spread across his father’s face as he took in the group of people his son had found to hang out with. He probably thought Jughead made friends fast which was...well, he supposed it seemed true of Riverdale. It hadn’t been the case back in Phoenix. Jughead looked around at others, they were still looking at him a little warily but seemed fine overall. 

“Yeah, I think so. Bye, guys.” He said, getting to his feet and stretching his aching limbs a little. They offered their own chorus of farewells as Toni offered him his bag of wet clothes and he took it gratefully, giving them all a wave as he walked towards his dad. FP was holding out his leather jacket for him, and Jughead slid into the long sleeves and warmth of it. “Thanks,” he mumbled shyly as they headed up the beach towards his dad’s car. 

“You run cold, huh?” His dad asked, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Jughead nodded, shivering on cue. “I’ll buy you a heater.”

Jughead immediately felt guilty. “No, you don’t have to-”

FP cuffed him gently across the back of the head. The opposite side, Jughead noted, to where his bump was still slowly shrinking. “You have a good time, today? I see you made some friends. That was the Topaz girl, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, they were telling me ghost stories.” 

FP chuckled. “That sounds right up your alley.” Jughead nodded, relaying a few of the stories as he hauled himself up into the truck. FP turned the heating on immediately, and laughed when Jughead gravitated towards the blow of hot air. “Shadow-dwellers?” FP repeated, the words clunky on his tongue. “Chasers? It sounds like a load of crap with vampires and werewolves to me.”

Jughead snorted. “I agree with the vampire thing. But apparently they don’t drink human blood, just animal blood.” 

His dad rolled his eyes. “I think I remember Topaz- your friend’s grandad, saying something once,” he laughed, “old men and their stories. About how blood-suckers weren’t allowed on their land.”

The teen rolls his eyes and is momentarily distracted from tales of monsters. “I mean, what an excuse for racism: inventing all that to keep a different type of people away.” 

His dad shakes his head; chiding. “Nah, it’s not racism, boy.” He informs him gently. “They were pushed onto reservations and a lot of them there are barely scraping by. I’ve known ‘em for a while, and if they wanna call us bloodsuckers, well…” he shrugged, eyes on the road, “it doesn't bother me.”

Jughead nodded; absorbing it all. His dad did repairs for people who couldn’t afford it, he’d probably seen what conditions could be like. Not racism then- so fear? Worry? Lines between places. He dimly thinks of salt and keeping monsters away. He looks out past the dark trees that roll by. What had Betty said about Southside? She doesn’t go there often? 

He spent the rest of the drive trying to reconcile Count Dracula into the group of beautiful people who sat in the corner of the cafeteria at lunchtime. He was too tired to do any research when he got home but his train of thought continued onto the next day and he spent Sunday camped out on the sofa, googling old Southside legends and piecing together the little he knew. It wasn’t the most brilliant theory, but it was better than the others he had in his notebook. Vampire fit a better. 

He went to bed on Sunday night; content. He would ask Betty about it in the morning. 

…

…

…

Would she always be so awed by the sleeping boy in front of her? Betty thought to herself on Saturday night. Jughead was strewn across his mattress, snoring soundly, completely drenched in the scent of  _ wolves.  _ His muscles twitched here and there like he’d been doing a lot of walking, and his eyes didn’t move at all. A deep sleep then, Betty decided.

She’d come to try and get some exposure to his scent for Monday. She was leaving with the others to hunt on Sunday night, but now...god wolves smelt  _ disgusting.  _ She was tempted to leave the room just to get away from it. But there was more to be discovered. He smelt sharply of salt; clustered in his hair. The sea water had changed its texture and she frowned as she remembered the day. It had been cold, hadn’t it? For a human, at least? And certainly one like Jughead. But he’d gone swimming. And found  _ wolves.  _ Wolves who had given him their clothes. There was a small scrape on his hand and she worried her bottom lip over it. Had he fallen? Tripped? It would be easy enough to follow his scent around Riverdale to try and get a picture of what had happened, but the treaty forbade it. 

He stretched on the bed, snuggling further under the blankets and throwing his arm up above his head. She was becoming increasingly frustrated. She wasn’t solving this enigma. Whatever Jellybean meant, whatever his fascination for crime. Why he seemed to find the two monsters in Riverdale only a week of being there. There had to be something about him. Like Reggie had said, something  _ different.  _

FP was getting up to use the bathroom, she could read the mild urgency of his thoughts, and she took another breath. Jughead’s scent was still there, delicious under the ugly scent of dog, and she tried to commit it to memory so that coming back on Monday wouldn’t be such a hardship when she was assaulted with its delicacy. 

On her run back, she contemplated sleep. How fascinating sleep was. She had missed it tremendously at first, but then swiftly found the extra time to be a gift. And then it had swung around again. What was the use of extra time when you had all of eternity? She wondered if her human sleep had been as peaceful as Jughead’s seemed to be. As fascinating as his was. She doubted it. He seemed to be the exception to many rules. 

Veronica and Polly were in her bedroom when she got in. The bed, of course, was purely decorational, but they were perched on it with smug looks on their faces. Betty sighed at them, crossing her arms. Polly lifted up the grey s tee that Betty had tucked into her draw, and the blonde raced forward to grab it out of her hands. The material, not the designer fabric they were used to, was scratchy but soft and still carried the hue of his scent.

“It’s going to be sunny on Monday.” Polly said, and Betty saw it for herself. “Too sunny.” 

“We’re thinking,” Veronica began, clasping her hands in delight, “of heading down to the Greendale Field? Maybe doing some play fighting? Fred already said yes.” Her eyes, now starting to turn a little darker than the gold warm gold signifying of their kind- it had been a while since she’d fed- looked up at Betty hopefully. 

She sighed again.

“She’s not coming.” Polly stated, standing up. Veronica whined loudly. “She’s going to watch Jughead from the shadows.” 

“Oh, B,” Veronica shook her head. “That is so creepy.” 

“Am I?” Betty blinked in surprise, and Polly nodded. 

“Nancy’s going to ask him to Winter Formal. She’s decided. She’s bought herself a new outfit and everything.” Polly said aloud for Veronica’s benefit. 

Well, Betty hummed to herself, it was pretty much decided then. She’d  _ have  _ to see that. And for herself. Not through the faded memories of someone else. “Maybe we can have a quick fight tomorrow night after we’ve hunted?” She offered appeasingly. 

Archie heard her from downstairs and paused from where he was currently trying to get Cheryl to measure his arm muscles. He was certain they’d grown.  _ Only if you switch it off.  _

“I can’t switch it off, Archie,” Betty rolled her eyes amusedly. If she could control her telepathy, she certainly would have used it to block out the vulgar thoughts she got off most of the men in their school. Including the teachers. Of course, she was older than most of them by a great number of years, but  _ they  _ didn’t know that. 

Veronica seemed appeased. She smoothed down her velvet dress and nodded. “Okay, fine. As long as we get to fight. I haven’t practised in a while and-” she took a deep breath and halted. She could smell another scent on Betty and the blonde waited for her to place it.  _ No way. Is that- _

“Yeah,” Betty sighed, shaking her head. “He’s a real magnet for danger.”

Veronica seemed amazed. “One of a kind.” 

Polly understood.  _ Ohhh, that’s why I couldn’t get a read on him today. I wanted to make sure he was alright, but his future kept disappearing. Those wolves mess with everything. _

Betty appreciated their tact, mindful of the ears downstairs. Jason was listening; confused, but Betty wasn’t too worried about him. He didn’t know nearly enough about the other creatures that existed out there. He hadn’t been a vampire for long enough. 

 

On Monday morning she felt well-fed, a little stuffed to be honest, she’d overdone it in her attempt to make sure Jughead’s scent wouldn’t come as a shock she’d be unable to resist. Lurking in the forestry opposite his house, she waited until she heard his heartbeat pick up with awareness, before firing off a text. 

**Sorry, Juggie! One of my dad’s friends is in hospital and the whole family are going- I would have given you more notice! Will you be okay getting to school?**

She craned her ears to listen, frustrated by the flood of golden light that poured onto the streets. She leaned more into the foliage. She heard his bleary hum and the sound of his fingers on the keys. 

**No problem. I’ll take the bike. Hope your dad’s friend is ok**

Polite, if a little short. She wondered if he was the type of person to use emojis or kisses to show affection. She’d always thought them stupid and juvenile, but now she wanted them littering his words. Maybe he was just tired. He’d just woken up after all.

She listened to his morning routine, and the sounds of him bidding his dad goodbye, before he came out into the sunlight. She straightened up, leaning against nearby tree trunk to look at him. He’d taken to the sunlight eagerly; a pair of jeans and his usual battered converse, but instead of his plaid and sweaters, he was wearing a thin button up shirt with a mild orange hue. Gone was his beanie and he tilted his face towards the sun, soaking it up as he swung his satchel over his shoulder. 

He was more lethargic in the sun, Betty realised. More easy going and content. More familiar. He straddled his bike and was about to head off when FP burst out the door. Betty frowned worriedly; his thoughts were a haze of concern and panic. “Jug!” He called over the roar the bike, and shook an object in his hands at his son. 

Ah. It was the helmet. Betty shook her head in exasperation, watching as Jughead flushed up at his dad guiltily. “Sorry,” he managed, heart thumping with honesty. “I forgot.” 

His dad shook his head, heart pounding, but voice calm. He was trying to downplay how worried he’d been. “Well, don’t forget.” 

Jughead slid the helmet on, obscuring his lovely face from view, before heading off. Betty and FP watched him go, before she left to move parallel with him. The forestry of Riverdale ran all along the perimeter of the Northside, so it was fairly easy to watch him ease in and out of traffic. His short sleeves flapped like wings as he moved through the air and by the time they got to school, Betty realised he’d left the house early. 

She understood why immediately. He parked his bike and immediately hopped up onto one of the rarely used outdoor picnic tables. It was covered with twigs and dried mud but he paid them no heed as he stretched out across one, soaking up the sunlight like a flower. She was only a few metres away from him; now hidden high up in the thick trees, watchful and wary of her skin. There was nothing to fear though. The beginning of the light was marked by a clear cut line across the school ground and she was well behind it. 

She watched as the object of her affections lazed in the empty space, before noticing that here, in the sunlight, strands of his hair looked rouge. He wasn’t normal. He was unlike any human ever. Black hair that was really blue now with strands of auburn in the sunlight? He’d been crafted special from everyone else. He stretched languidly, eyes closed, and she leaned further against the still branches to admire him. 

His scent, she could still detect from here. It raked like a gentle fire down her throat, but she could control the pain. Besides, a new voice had become apparent, and she twisted as she heard Nancy’s thoughts.  _ Ah! There he is! He looks so good. Mmm. If I could get him to wear a blue suit that would go so well with my dress.  _ She took a moment so smooth down her own green ensemble, and Betty had to admit; she looked good. 

Her long wavy hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her green dress suited the weather and her skin tone perfectly.  _ You can do this. Even if Betty’s into him she won’t actually date him. They never do.  _ She took a breath and waved. Betty could see Jughead through Nancy’s eyes; a better view than the aerial shot she currently had. “Hey, Jug!” She called, and she watched as he opened his eyes, sitting up and beaming at her, waving a little as he swung his legs onto the seats.  _ See, look at that smile! He wouldn’t smile at me like that unless he liked me!  _

Betty frowned, having to agree. His smile had been soft and happy to see her. Did he like Nancy? He’d never talked about her to anyone. “Hey, Nance. Isn’t this nice?” He gestured to the warmth, and she nodded. 

He didn’t realise how nervous she was. Betty could hear her heartbeat. Nancy was a confident girl but she wasn’t used having to ask guys out. She typically got asked. “Yeah, it’s really nice.” She was plucking up the courage and Betty watched with bated breath. What would happen if Jughead said yes? Nancy seemed exceedingly normal to Betty, but what if that’s what he liked? She watched as Nancy spotted the glint of red in Jughead’s hair. She reached out to brush it across his forehead.

Betty snapped one of the nearby branches to mulch. She couldn’t look away. Still in Nancy’s mind she watched as Jughead blinked in surprise; unmoving as Nancy pulled her hand away.

“I never noticed, your hair goes a bit red in the sun.” 

He smiled at her, shifting a little in what Betty hoped was discomfort. “Oh.” 

“Anyway,” she swallowed, “you know Winter Formal?” Betty was beginning to feel better. Nancy may not have noticed it, but Betty could read the mild horror on his face. “Well, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go with me?” She twisted her hands together nervously, and was immediately disheartened by the lack of an automatic yes. 

Jughead looked like he was struggling for words, before he began to speak. “Nancy, I really like you-” Betty growled lowly, “-but I have the benefit of sharing a locker room with Chuck Clayton. He talks about you.  _ All the time.  _ I don’t think I’d really stand a chance if I got in his way.” 

Nancy’s lips parted in surprise.  _ Chuck? But he never said anything- I mean  _ _ wow.  _ _ Chuck Clayton. Oh, he’d look good in blue... _ her thoughts became a jumbled mess, and Betty shared Jughead’s self-satisfied smile.

“Hey Nancy!” Midge called, capturing her attention, and the tanned skin girl waved goodbye to Jughead, skipping over to her short friend to share the good news that Chuck Clayton, football star, had a crush on her. Jughead enjoyed the silence for a moment longer, before Betty heard Reggie’s mind. 

_ Oh this is too good  _ he thought, and she watched in mild amusement as he snuck up on Jughead and yelled. Jughead yelped, heart beat ratcheting up, before he groaned and collapsed back onto the table.

“Fucker,” he muttered, regaining his breath as Reggie clambered up beside him. Reggie patted his chest happily and Betty was once again pleased that Jughead had a friend like Reggie. Reggie’s thoughts were a nice place to be. They revolved mainly around his girlfriend and his dislike for algebra; occasionally there would be anticipation for a sports team Betty didn’t recognise. He was a happy guy with a pleasant mind, and she settled into his thoughts quite happily. 

_ Was that Nancy I just saw over here? The girls really do like him- look at him! He doesn’t even care! Maybe someone back home had his eye?  _ “How was your weekend? Join a gang whilst I was away?” 

Jughead didn’t open his eyes, but half smiled. “They were nice. Saw a girl, actually.”

_ Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.  _ “Oh yeah? Real or imagined?” 

“Real, with the brightest pink hair. She was nice.” Betty’s growl sent a bird flying from the tree in fear.

“Are you into her?” Reggie asked. Betty was again enormously grateful for him. How else would she be able to sate her burning curiosity?

Jughead sighed. “Is it possible in your tiny brain to be friends with a girl without being  _ into  _ her?” 

Reggie briefly scanned over the few women in his life. He didn’t have any female friends. It wasn’t a conscious choice, it was just that most of the girls in his social circle weren’t into the same stuff he was.  _ Hey- is that his motorbike? Did Betty not give him a ride?  _ “Oh, I get it. You can’t even look at another girl since Betty’s got your brain all turned to mush.”

Jughead blushed furiously under the sun, and reached out to swat his friend. “Shut up.” He grumbled. Betty watched; barely breathing. What did that mean? He wasn’t denying it? Did he like her? She hoped it wasn’t true. Whilst feeling jealous whenever any girl looked at him was bad enough, having him like her in that way would be disastrous. She wanted him to like her as a friend. She urged him to. If he started to like her the way that Veronica suspected, the way that Polly had seen...who knows what could happen? “She wasn’t feeling well. How was Seaside?” 

“Cold. We sat in my car the whole time drinking hot chocolate.” Reggie sighed. He remembered Josie not feeling very well either, and hoped that she would be better today. “Wanna go on another hike after school today?” 

Betty laughed in delight at the look of utter horror on Jughead’s face. 

“Oh come on! Please!”  _ I think it might be Josie’s time of the month and I don’t wanna make her feel worse. Besides, I didn’t get to see you all weekend, jerk! Let me hang out with you. _

Betty was once again filled with immeasurable fondness for the man she had once not looked at twice. “Fine,” Jughead groaned reluctantly. “But only because I like you. Not because you’ve converted me to walking. And I’ll only be a hindrance.” 

“No different from usual then,” Reggie cheered. “I saw Ethel out front, if you wanna see her? She could use a gentleman to carry all her books and we all know she doesn’t want it to be me.”

Jughead flushed in what Betty deciphered as discomfort., but both he and Reggie got off the table. “How do I tell her? I feel so bad.” He scrubbed his hand across his face. 

_ Betty? Ethel? Nancy? Mysterious pink-haired girls? How doesn’t he know he’s hot? Josie thinks it’s something to do with his mom. He never talks about her. And what about that photo in his room? His sister? He doesn’t talk about her either.  _ Reggie resolved to ask about it on their hike and Betty suddenly knew her plans for the afternoon. “Tell her you value her as a friend or some crap. She’ll understand. I heard Dilton might be making a move on her anyway.”

“Really?” Jughead asked excitedly, now a bit of a skip in his step. Betty smiled as this piece of information slotted into place. He didn’t like giving bad news. He preferred it if every rejection could be soothed by the possibility of something new. “What have you heard him say exactly?” 

Betty longed to follow them but was hindered by sunlight. She briefly considered staying in Reggie’s head the entire day and gleaning as much as she could, but decided against it. Instead she ran back to the Jones house and slid into Jughead’s room. It was a familiar route now, and though she thought herself despicable, she knew she wasn’t strong enough to stop. The scent, still slightly tarnished by dog, burned her throat as she lay on his bed. She splayed her hair across his pillow and breathed in. Fire scorched through her; venom filling her mouth. His scent was imbued into it. But this was the best way to be desensitized. She reached over to pick up a hoodie from the floor and draped it over her, letting his smell swarm around her. The sun would be gone tomorrow and she would be able to talk to him in Biology. 

Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out, expecting a message from Veronica, letting her know what a good time they were all having, before her breath caught at Jughead’s name on the screen. 

**When do you think you’ll be back?** Was written. She stared at it. He was texting her whilst he was in school. She glanced at the time. He would be in Algebra. Why was he texting her in class? 

**Around 5pm** she lied, staring at the screen eagerly.

He didn’t let her down.  **Do you think we could meet somewhere? I want to talk**

Fear and hope and excitement clutched at her. But no. Meeting him alone somewhere after the sun had begun to set was pushing fate too far.  **I could come to yours** she wrote back after a moment’s hesitation  **my dad doesn’t like me to be out too late** there. That seemed very human. 

**Sure. Around 7pm?**

He’d hike with Reggie, have dinner with his dad and shower- Polly was probably having the vision right now. She’d be showing up at seven precisely. Sure enough, a text buzzed from Polly.  **Have fun tonight ;)** it read. Betty ignored it.

**Sounds good** she wrote back, waiting to see if he’d reply. He didn’t, but she laid her phone over where her heart was and felt warm and girlish for the first time in a while. 

…

…

…

Jughead stands under the lovely, hot spray of the shower for longer than necessary, letting the warmth soak into his skin. The muscles in his legs, and for some reason his back, ache from his hike with Reggie and he’s pretty sure there’s a splinter in his heel, but he feels good. Excited. He scrubs the soap into his skin; heart thumping nervously. 

He likes her. Reggie is right. He really does like her. She’s unlike anyone he’s ever met, and whatever she is, however she got to be that way, he knows he’ll stay with her. He towels off roughly, keeping an eye on the time. It’s 6:45pm and he’s cutting it a little close, but as he pulls on his pyjamas- slightly nicer ones than the holey tee he’s so fond of- he pads out into his bedroom and starts trying to clean up. 

He tosses his socks into the hamper, and scrubs a hand through his wet hair as his dad knocks on the door. “Come in!” He calls, pulling the sheets neatly across his mattress. 

There’s a brief grunt, before his dad is struggling in with a space heater. Jughead laughs, immediately rushing over to help. “Maybe this’ll add some colour to your skin,” his dad chuckles, as they set it down beside his bed. FP plugs it in under his desk. “I swear sometimes you’re as pale as those Andrews kids.”

Jughead hums to himself. So his dad  _ has  _ noticed. Most likely everyone in town has. He flushes as his father scans his room, an amused twitch to his lips. “Don’t.” He warns, but FP can’t help himself.

“Trying to impress her, huh?” His dad asks, lifting his eyebrows, before Jughead can shove him out of his room. He goes easily enough, and Jughead shuts the door in embarrassment. The heater is nice. Thick waves of heat blowing into the room and he holds his fingers over it for a moment before getting back to cleaning. When he’s done, he hovers by the window, convincing himself he’s not looking, but swivelling in excitement whenever a car comes down the street. Should he use air freshner? He decides against it, purely because she’d be able to smell it and  _ know  _ he’d used it. 

At 6:59pm exactly, Betty’s shiny mini pulls up. He takes a deep breath, heading downstairs so that he can open the door for her and hopefully his dad won’t say anything humiliating. He nearly trips down the bottom one in his haste, but catches himself on the bannister. He can do this. Reggie’s told him he can do this. 

Actions speak louder than words sometimes, no matter how much he loves to craft them, and he’s fairly certain- well, not really, but he does hope- that Betty likes him too. Why else would she be so willing to spend time with him? Reggie had analysed her behaviour this afternoon and...Jughead’s hopeful. Maybe that offer for a movie  _ had  _ been a date. 

He swallows, steadying himself as he hears the neat knock on the door. 

He can do this. 

It’s just a kiss, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments always warm my heart you lovelies! 
> 
> MWAH MWAH 
> 
> x


	8. The Black Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black is the colour of regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahead! 
> 
> Enjoy!

There’s a light afternoon drizzle, and Betty coils further against the trees; inhaling the wet bark. The rain makes Jughead’s scent better,  _ fresher,  _ and she’s now pleased that she’s so full of elk-blood. He and Reggie are making their way along a trail that already carries hints of their scents, so it isn’t the first time they’ve been here. It’s funny, watching him stumble across the trail, and she finds her thoughts matching Reggie’s.  _ He’s not exactly a billy goat, is he?  _ Reggie laughs to himself, reaching out his hand to haul Jughead up the steepest part. “So, bro, I wanted to talk to you about something. You can just say no and we can move past it.” 

Betty watches through the leaves as Jughead makes a curious face. He’s flushed, a little breathless, and keeps picking up and dropping different sticks that he uses to help him walk. He’s dressed for hiking, though, which makes her think that he and Reggie must have bought some stuff. He’s got khaki pants and a thick tee with hiking boots. His sweat makes his scent more potent, but she relishes the burn.  “What is it?” He asks, swiping his sticky-fingers through his hair. 

_ Don’t get upset. Don’t get upset. Don’t get upset.  _ Reggie chants, and Betty is once again; entirely grateful for him. She needs to do something for him. She files the thought away for now, and listens as Reggie tries to formulate his words as he steps through leaves. “How come you never talk about your mom? I mean...she’s why you moved here, right?” He looked over at Jughead worriedly, and Betty watched in fascination as his face switched between a variety of microexpressions. 

The first one of these was reluctance. A closed-offishness that meant he didn’t want to talk about it, and the next was a forcible decision to relax. He’d been caught off-guard by the question, of that much she was sure. His heart thudded in his chest. Betty guessed it was nerves. “Uh…” he trails his fingers along as they walked; touching the waist high shrubs. “My mom is...well,” he laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “I guess I’m meant to say abusive but it wasn’t- it wasn’t that bad.” Betty could feel the anger rising in her like a tsunami ready to wreak havoc. A deep growl sounded in her chest but it was too low for the boys below to hear. “She never hurt me or anything, but she was...she wasn’t really meant to be a mother. She could be...cruel? I don’t know,” he kicked at the mud. “I don’t feel right complaining about it. She had a rough time of it.” 

Reggie was staring and trying not to stare.  _ What the fuck? What a total bitch. How is he not messed up? Maybe he is.  _ “I’m sorry, man.” He said earnestly, waiting at the top of a small ridge for Jughead to join him. “She sounds like a total bitch though, and you may wanna be nice to her cuz she’s your mom, but I can say that, right?” 

Betty’s anger receded only slightly, at the startled laugh that sprang out of the blue-haired boy’s throat. Reggie was equally pleased to hear it. “I guess so,” he said warmly, sounding startled but happy. 

_ Going well. Push it.  _ “And what about that girl in the picture on your desk? Is that your sister?” Jughead’s heart seemed to slow instead of skip, and his breath came out in a tortured lungful. Betty didn’t have to be Jason to read the grief coming off him in waves.  _ Shit  _ Reggie thought, noticing it too (he was more perceptive than Betty had given him credit for. She had to stop underestimating him)  _ sore spot.  _ “You don’t have to answer it-”

“That’s my sister: Jellybean,” he said in a rush. Bravely, Betty thought lovingly. “She uh- she passed away in an accident a few years ago. She was…” he turned to look at the the bark of a madrona tree, reaching out to peel off a bit of the rotting orange bark to expose the wild, buttercup yellow beneath. “She was ten,” he sighed, before he half smiled; a rueful twist of his lips. “She hated hiking. We’d sit inside all summer and veg out on the couch. Whenever we had to go anywhere she made me give her piggyback rides.” 

Reggie’s thoughts matched his actions. He turned on the trail, marched back to Jughead, and engulfed him in a tight hug. Betty swallowed against the onslaught of emotion. The leaner boy held himself stiffly for a moment, before easing into the embrace, and loping his gangly limbs around Reggie too. Wordless sympathy and admiration were coursing through Reggie’s mind, and he pulled back to clap Jughead’s shoulder. “You’re happy here. With us.” 

Jughead smiled, sadness crinkling around the edges. “Yeah I am.” They began their easy gander onwards, and Betty committed everything to memory. She’d been so stupid. Of course his password had been Jellybean, of course he thought about her in his dreams. He’d been through so much- and he was so young. Her seething hatred for his mother had dialled down at his easy forgiveness of it all. Betty tried to be a little more objective. The mother had clearly lost her daughter. But it was no excuse and yet- well, Jughead’s big heart was contagious, it seemed. Though Betty didn’t think it would be an absolute tragedy if Ms Jones were to die, she wasn’t actively rooting for her death anymore. “What about you? Have you got a tragic backstory?” 

The taller boy laughed, his mind racing, and Betty got a glimpse into his homelife for the first time. A nice house, on the more expensive side of the neighbourhood. Two loving parents, though his dad worked a little too much, and a four year old brother called Ollie. His parents were lax and rarely punished him; entrusting him to do the right thing. Reggie came and went as he pleased, but had proved himself worthy of their lax rules. Betty smiled as she watched memories of Reggie and Oliver from just last night: they’d built a tower out of teddy bears together and their mother been so enamoured with it, she’d ordered pizza instead of forcing them to eat their vegetables. “Not really,” he offered, “I’ve had it pretty easy.” 

Jughead shook his head. “Problems can be big or small, man.”

Emboldened by this, Reggie’s thoughts turned down an avenue that surprised Betty. For a mind-reader, she was certainly not as observant as she’d previously given herself credit for. He wanted to get into journalism: his dad owned the  _ Riverdale Gazette  _ and he’d never felt good enough to try. 

How sweet humans were. Betty could easily rectify and arrange his dreams for him. 

“I dunno. Obviously, sports are my life.” He ignored Jughead’s eye roll, “but I...I dunno, you write a lot, don’t you?”

“Uh...yeah?” Jughead answered quizzically, “you want to get into creative writing?”

“Not  _ exactly.  _ Maybe...journalism,” he shrugged, “I’ve always been a little into the idea of  _ freedom of the press. _ ” He shrugged, admiring the fern and pines that dotted the trail. “But can you really picture me with a pencil behind my ear and a notebook in my hand?” He scoffed.

Jughead cocked his head, taking it seriously. “Yeah,” he said lightly, “I could. You rock it.”

It weighed on Reggie.  _ Really?  _ He thought to himself.  _ Well maybe I should- no. I don’t know. Might be kinda cool. The two of us. Him with his fiction me with my non-fiction. He’s a good writer, Mrs Linn said so. He could help maybe- or best to stick with track? I don’t know. I’ll talk to Josie. But Jo’s always liked being my cheerleader. I don’t wanna bother her.  _ Betty nearly groaned with frustration, raking her nails down the branch she was on. “Maybe.” He said evasively. “Now come on, spill about Betty. I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

She watched as Jughead’s cheeks coloured, and he stumbled on a log. “Well- what do you want to know?” He asked; deflecting for time. 

Reggie didn’t take the bait. “How do you feel about her, man? I know we’re seeing Mel this weekend but c’mon, double dates could be the next level to our friendship.” 

He snorted, shaking his head fondly. “Well, she’s gorgeous, obviously. But there’s more there too.”

If Betty could have blushed, she could have. Bright and beautiful in the light rain. Reggie nodded, his mind flashing for a second to slightly crude thoughts of the blonde vampire before they rushed back to decency.  _ And… _ he thought in his head, urging his friend to continue.

He sighed. “I don’t know. She’s...she’s an enigma.” Betty hummed, how funny he thought that. She thought just the same. “She’s just...I can’t really explain it. Just  _ different,  _ I guess, to anyone else. It’s a little scary sometimes, but...she makes me laugh and she laughs when I makes jokes. You know, even my-”

“Incredibly dry and annoyingly sarcastic ones?” Reggie quipped. “I know the ones.”

“Exactly,” he laughed, “she’s insanely talented and she’s...she’s just the polar opposite of the girls I knew back in Phoenix. She’s genuinely kind and...I like her,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, and then immediately took them out when he realised that wasn’t helping his balance. If her body wasn’t long dead, her heart would have been thumping and her cheeks would have been on fire. Did he really think those things about her? Did he really see her that way?  _ My boy is so smitten  _ Reggie thought humorously, and Betty braced against the wave of emotions. 

He liked her. Oh god.  _ Oh god.  _ She could remember Polly’s visions, his skin now snow white and his lovely green eyes gone in the wake of ferocious red. He couldn’t. She wouldn’t let that happen- relax, she chided herself. She needed to relax. It was a crush. Nancy had a crush on Jughead that had come and gone in the space of a few days. They were teenagers. Infatuations and desires came and went with the rising sun that so tormented her kind. 

“It doesn’t really matter anyway, though,” he mumbled, melancholy in his voice. It was an unusual tone for him. Not often used. He didn’t like to complain. “She’s way out of my league.” 

What the hell did that mean? Betty was furious at the implications. Reggie seemed irritated too.  _ Does he not know that girls dig him? I mean Betty’s a different kind of hot, but he’s not-  _ “She likes you, idiot.” He swiped. Jughead scoffed in disbelief, as if that were the end of the topic. Betty urged Reggie to convince him. “Dude, before you came along she didn’t give other students the time of day. She’s school rep on paper only, I swear. And even if she was one of the nicest students, it was only to girls. It was as if she couldn’t stand being near the guys and then you come along and bam- she’s driving you to school, she’s asking you out to see a movie on the same night as Winter Formal, she  _ saved  _ your life! She actually talked to me and Josie for the first time since they’ve moved here. I hear the way she talks to you man. Your crush isn’t as one sided as you think.” 

He was replaying the interactions between Jughead and Betty that he’d seen, and Betty watched them as if for the first time. Was she really that giggly around him? Was she really so strung on his every word the way she seemed in Reggie’s estimations? It seemed that way. She shook her head against it. It wasn’t exactly news, after all. Veronica and Polly had confirmed that she and Jughead had something special and it made sense that she was as besotted with him as Reggie saw. Moreso, perhaps. But it didn’t make a difference. Just because she liked him (in what she was beginning to understand as more than just friendship) didn’t mean anything could happen. 

She was suddenly torn between urging Reggie on and willing him to stop. She wanted Jughead’s confidence boosted certainly, but she didn’t want Reggie to fan the flames of potential between them. “When are you seeing her next?”

Jughead flushed deliciously. “She’s coming over tonight.”

“Dude!” He yelped, whirling on his heel and pointing an accusing finger at his best-friend. “I knew you were holding out on me! Alright, I know what you do. You set the mood just right, and you kiss her. Smack one right on the lips.” He pursed his own for reference. 

The floppy-haired boy shoved at him, moving further ahead on the trail. “Shut up.”

Reggie refused to give up, and Betty watched in fascinated horror as he jogged after his friend and grabbed his shoulder. “I’m serious, dude! My philosophy in life is ‘fucking go for it’. Worst that can happen is she goes: ‘I like you as a friend’, which leaves you a free bachelor for Mel, or she’s into it, and you’ve got a girlfriend.” 

Jughead frowned. “Does Mel even like me? We’ve never met?” He asked dubiously. 

“She sits in front of me in biology and she looks at you.”

He blinked. “Does that count?” 

Reggie shrugged, unconcerned. “Think about it, though.  _ Just fucking do it.  _ It’s worked for me.”

Betty watched as Jughead made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. Almost as if he were considering it. But she...well, she tossed the thought around in her head. Kissing a human. It was so foreign, and yet...she wondered what it might feel like. He’d be soft. He looked so soft, and he stirred up that fire deep inside her. And yet, he also stirred up a much more dangerous heat. A burning thirst for his blood. Oh yes, they’d kiss, and it would be serene for a moment, and then the scent of him, the taste of him and she’d be ripping his throat out. 

It left a bad taste in her mouth. No. Kissing was something she was staunchly against. Besides, she knew Jughead. He was...shy. Shy and nervous and completely unaware to how attractive he was. He wouldn’t live by Reggie’s philosophy and he certainly wouldn’t lean in without giving her adequate time to pull away. She could politely decline and all her problems would be solved. They could be friends, just like she wanted. 

“You have a brother, right?” Jughead asked, pushing the conversation away from himself and Betty. “How come I’ve never been to your house?”

Reggie laughed, distracted easily enough. “I figured you weren’t house trained yet, but you’re welcome anytime. His name’s Olly…”   
  
  
  


She could pick out his heartbeat now from a crowd of people, she was sure. So as she rounded the corner onto his street, she could hear his nervous beating from his bedroom. He was waiting for her. She tried not to smile too widely as she pulled into it drive. No longer inhibited by the sun she strolled leisurely to the front door.

She heard him stumble down the stairs and laughed quietly to herself. He was elegantly clumsy. 

She braced for his scent and was right to do so, as he pulled open the front door it wafted warm and tempting over her.  _ Feel the burn  _ she thought humorlessly as it scorched her throat. He looked incredibly soft, and his skin was rubbed pink and clean. The traces of the forest gone, just his scent, a bouquet of flowers waiting to be picked. His green eyes glittered in the starlight and his pupils dilated at the sight of her. “Betty,” he smiled, “you came.”

As if she wouldn’t? “Of course I came,” she smiled, “you said you wanted to talk.”

“Oh, right uh…” he gestured her in and she stepped in through the eaves. It was a very different experience being in someone’s house once you were invited in. She could hear FP eavesdropping quietly over the landing, and as they headed for the stairs he went back into his room. “How was your dad’s friend? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It was exaggerated apparently,” she smiled, remembering to twitch in a human way as she pushed her hair behind her ears; following him agonisingly slowly up the steps. “But it was good to see him regardless.” She was surprised to see how neat his room was and wondered why he’d done so. Was it for her benefit? Sometimes humans just liked to tidy up, but was that a coincidence? As usual, his room was drenched in his scent, like stepping into a burning building and she let it wash over her, taking a few careful breaths. He gestured for her to sit anywhere and she tried to read his body language. The desk or the bed? 

It was probably safer to sit at the desk. She pulled out the chair and pointed it towards the bed, sitting down. Oh. She hadn’t noticed it. He was too distracting. There was a new space heater, making the room even warmer than usual. He craved heat, clearly. Riverdale wasn’t the right place for him. Jughead settled onto the bed; perched on the end near to her. He was dressed in his pyjamas but she hadn’t seen this ensemble before. Gone was the holey tee she was used to and in its place a baggy black tee that exposed his collarbones and a dark grey pair of shorts. His hair curled near the nape of his neck, still slightly damp, and she wondered what it would feel like to tangle her fingers in it.

She quickly pushed the thought away, instead watching as he shifted nervously. His heart was thumping hard, but even, in his chest. “I have another theory.” He said, and she rose her eyebrows in surprise. Oh. She hadn’t given too much thought on what this talk would be about if she were honest. She didn’t really know what humans talked about, it had been too long since she’d been one. 

She wondered why he was so nervous and stretched her leg out to push the mattress beside him, kicking her legs up beside his hips. “More superheroes? Don’t tell me you’ve sunk to DC.”

He half smiled, and she was pleased she’d swotted up on current trends. “No, I uh...well, you know how I went down to the Southside this weekend?” Betty stiffened imperceptibly, but nodded. “They were telling some old stories to freak me out, and...when I got home I did some research.” He looked up and his eyes met hers unwaveringly. “It reminded me of...vampires?”

He knew the worst possible thing, then. The truth. But...here he was. His eyes looked...hopeful? Hopeful he’d gotten the answer correct? She wasn’t sure. He’d invited her here, cleaned his room and worn nice pyjamas for a monster? What was  _ wrong  _ with him? She realised he was still waiting for an answer. A thousand thoughts raced through her head. Denying it would be the most intelligent. Otherwise surely they’d all have to leave and-

She was so wrapt up in it all that when his lips pressed against hers she was still as stone and unresponsive. 

All she could register for a searing moment was how...how  _ nice  _ it was. Her lips parted slightly in disbelief as he moved against her. Firstly:  _ what the fuck?  _ He was brave enough- would she ever stop pegging him wrong? Brave enough for an impromptu kiss even though he’d been so nervous. And he knew. He knew what she was and he was still kissing her. He’d known since the weekend and he’d still- still said all that stuff about her to Reggie. He’d  _ meant  _ it. He knew what she was and he still- he still-

It wasn’t a crush. It wasn’t a crush at all. 

He loved her. Whether he knew it yet or not, he did. Veronica had been right. But Polly- Polly wouldn’t be-

He made a small noise of contentment against her and two sets of instincts warred inside her. One was bloodlust. Here was her prey, vulnerable and enticing. The second was older; dusty and deeply buried. It was that instinct that pushed him back onto the bed; lightning fast but he didn’t notice; falling into the pillows. His hand tangled into her hair. Every place he touched her, he was so warm. So  _ hot.  _ He was impossibly soft, just as soft as she’d imagined. His scent was everywhere, venom was flooding her mouth; bitter against his sweetness, and she moved a hand up to his jaw, tilting his neck back. 

His pulse was beating erratically and the air was thick with his arousal. 

She could feel it. Her instincts battling and one was winning. The long line of his beautiful throat was exposed to her. His hands were in her hair. She was straddling him; she had him cornered. She was vicious with need. 

“Betty,” he whispered with want. 

It was just enough. 

She launched herself away from him, flying into the furthest wall with a bang. He startled, sitting up in confusion as if she’d disappeared into thin air. When his eyes refocused, he stared at her. She stared right back. He looked more gorgeous than she’d ever seen. His cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes blown with arousal. His lips red and puffy and-

There was bruises. Small bruises shaped like her fingertips already blossoming on the underside of his jaw. She’d done that. She’d done that- she could have killed him. She was furious- confused- angry, hurt- how could he be so  _ stupid?  _ How could she be so stupid? Why was she even here? He knew what she was and- his heartbeat was thumping madly, so fast she thought he might be having a panic attack, but he remained still; half sitting up on the bed, hair a mess, staring at her. 

She could remember how soft he’d been under her. A new memory to torment her. 

“No.” She whispered harshly, and he stared up at her; swallowing.

“I’m sorry,” he managed contritely, voice still thick with lust. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking, I just couldn’t help myself-”

She cut him off with a bitter laugh. He was worried he’d offended her? He’d nearly killed himself. She’d nearly killed him. He’d been so close to a bloody, slaughtered end and he was worried about offending her. Hatred and fondness mixed into an ugly tonic in her mind. “This whole thing was a mistake.” 

His eyes widened, and he made to stand up. She stopped him with a glare, and he stayed gingerly where he was on the bed. Where was the fear? Why wasn’t there any fear? What was wrong with him? There was a vampire in his bedroom with very thin control and he wasn’t screaming for help. “It wasn’t a mistake.” He insisted, “Betty, I don’t care what you are-”

Her jaw dropped. Polly’s vision grew stronger in her mind. He didn’t care. How much did he love her? How was it possible to love someone so much in such a short space of time? Veronica’s power swam into her memories then: the gold. Non-burnished. Untarnished. Vibrant and brilliant. 

She’d already done it then. She’d condemned him. She’d condemned his soul to his eternal hell. 

“-you’re still the most incredible-”

“Stop talking.” She insisted weakly, lunging across the room to open the window. His head spun around in shock. She supposed to him it looked as if she had teleported. She gulped in the fresh air, attempting to clear her head. Oh god what had she done? Cheryl had been right. She had no control. She’d  _ destroyed  _ him. Pain throbbed in her in spiky twists; fetters twining themselves around her heart. “I made a horrible mistake ever talking to you.” 

He inhaled sharply. Hurt, probably. But she couldn’t tell. His eyes were her only real clue to his emotions, and she was determined not to look at him, just breathing in the night. “Betty…” he managed, throat clogged, “I get it if the kiss was too far, we can just be friends, I’m sorry if I overstepped the mark.”

He didn’t know he was in love with her. Maybe it was salvageable then. Maybe if she pulled away now; horribly and awfully she could still save him. Could stop this before it got unfixable. If he didn’t know he loved her, maybe he’d never have to know. Maybe he could find someone else. Maybe his soul wouldn’t be damned. Maybe everything would be okay. “I don’t want to be your friend, Jughead.” She hissed, turning to look at him. 

His eyes were wet with tears. Agony coursed through her. She’d made him  _ cry,  _ and it wasn’t for the first time. No matter what she did, she caused pain. Well, this one would be a mercy then. The last time. 

“Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t text me. Don’t- don’t approach me in school. I’m not going to be picking you up and in Biology, well...the bare minimum.” 

He stared at her; eyes flickering as they tried to read her facial expressions but she kept it carefully blank. “Betty,” he said again, more seriously. “I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable but we can talk about this, we don’t have- look, if it’s about the vampire thing-” he dropped his voice a little, “-I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise. You’re safe.”

_ She’s  _ safe. He’s ludicrous. He’s insane. He’s the one in danger, not her. “Forget this,” she motioned between them, “ever happened. We aren’t a thing, Jughead, we never were. You’re just another one of them, a meaningless face in the crowd. It’s my fault for striking up conversation in the first place. I shouldn’t have. I regret it.” 

For the first time since she’d met him, Betty Cooper was pleased she couldn’t read Jughead Jones’ thoughts. She didn’t think she could bear to know what he was thinking. Was she making him feel the way his mother had? Was she destroying the confidence he’d worked so hard to achieve to show her how he felt? But it was different. It was different, she assured herself. She was doing it to protect him. Just because they wouldn’t talk didn’t mean she wouldn’t be there. She would. She would watch over him, be his...guardian vampire. She’d make sure he was safe. She’d protect him from all that befell humans and he’d never even know. 

He’d be happy, and she’d be...she’d be…

It didn’t matter. He may be hurt now but human hurt faded. They felt so weakly in comparison to vampires. His hurt now was for the greater good.  _ His  _ greater good.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, face crumpled, eyes downcast. His cheeks were flushed but she didn’t know whether it was from pain, embarrassment or the lingering traces of arousal. She imagined it was all three.

His pain was her pain. “Goodbye.” She whispered, tempted to go out of the window, but heading out the door instead. She made sure to move slowly, and she kept her ears listening to all the motions of the house. By the time she got into her car, FP had deciphered what had happened. Jughead was crying and FP was holding him. She could hear the protective tone of his father’s thoughts. And for the first time; anger and distaste towards Betty. 

He didn’t like her anymore and it seemed unlikely that she would be able to easily win back his affections. 

Well, she thought; despondent, as she started her car. She’d lost both Jones men tonight. 

Though her brain told her it was worth it, her still heart was inclined to disagree. 

…

…

…

 

“She’s a fucking bitch.” Reggie spat, parking with more force than necessary as they arrived at school the next morning. 

Jughead stared at the dashboard, shaking his head. “You say that about anyone who’s mean to me and I appreciate it but...she’s not.” 

Reggie nodded. “She’s not.” He echoed.

Jughead buried his face in his hands. “I was such an idiot. I  _ knew  _ she couldn’t have liked me that way and I just pushed her away. You should have seen the look on her face, Reg, she was freaking out.” He could remember it now, and his victory at her silence essentially confirming that his theory was right, had been drowned at by the horror on her face. The kiss though...though she’d been cold, so cold, he’d been expecting it and it...it hadn’t been bad. Though she was cold, she wasn’t  _ cold.  _ It had been cool and for a moment, he’d thought, willing and perfect.

She’d looked as if it was the worst possible thing to happen to anyone. “She’s gotta be the only girl in this school who doesn’t think you’re hot.” Reggie offered, and Jughead rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, bro! The girls here are mad for you. Even Josie thinks so.” 

Jughead appreciated the blatant lies as an attempt to make him feel better, but they weren’t really doing the job. “I think I should just focus on school for a while,” he murmured glumly, as they both slid out of the truck. The cold Tuesday morning air ruffled and bit against their skin as if it had something against them, and they both heard the squeal of tyres against tarmac as the Andrews crew pulled into the lot. Jughead looked away from the fancy car. “Ostentatious, isn’t it?” He muttered, mostly to himself, wondering whether Betty was with them or not. He slung his satchel over his shoulder and spotted Ethel struggling with her bag and her cast. He started towards her and Reggie jogged to catch up with him. 

“They probably all have tiny dicks, that’s why their cars are so nice.” 

“Ah,” Jughead grinned, pulling his beanie down a little further as the wind pricked his ears. “That’s why you drive such a piece of crap, huh? Because your dick is  _ enormous.” _

“It is actually,” Reggie huffed proudly, “but at least I have a car, Mr Motorbike. What does that mean, I wonder?” 

He snorted, amused despite himself. “I’m afraid the metaphor is lost on me.” They reached the auburn haired girl, and Jughead smiled at her, taking her bag. He was mustering the energy from a source inside him he didn’t know he had. Just because the girl he liked didn’t like him back well- well, it wasn't a reason to lash out at those around him. It was his own fault, surely, for assuming as wrongly as he had. “Hey, Ethel,” 

She beamed at him, and guilt flushed up inside him. He suddenly knew how she felt to be on the wrong side of a crush. He needed to find out more information about Dilton Doiley before he could steer her in the right direction, and the three of them fell into a walk together towards the building. “Morning, Jug! Hey, Reggie! Did you hear Mr Carter’s not coming in today which means no algebra test!” Ethel chirped enthusiastically. 

“Holy shit, we were meant to have an algebra test today?” Reggie gaped, and Jughead rolled his eyes fondly. They reached the doors only to step inside and see Josie leaning against the wall. She’d been waiting for them. Reggie looped his arm over her shoulder and kissed her forehead as they headed for the lounge. “Hey, gorgeous. I missed you.”

“Mm, I bet you did,” Josie giggled. “How did you guys enjoy your hike yesterday? Did he talk about me, Jug?” 

Jughead felt better already. The aching sadness still resided somewhere deep within him, but his friends were a source of comfort. He was lucky to have them. “Non-stop. I thought my ears might drop off.” 

Reggie swotted him and Ethel laughed in delight, and just as they headed for the lounge, a loud voice caught their attention. Jughead turned to see Principal Weatherbee, a man he had never directly spoken to before, standing in the doorway to his office. “Jughead Jones, Reginald Mantle, do you mind if I have a quick word?” 

Josie and Ethel made little  _ ooh  _ sounds under their breath but Jughead ignored them as he and Reggie approached the headmaster. For some reason, he felt apprehensive. Had he done something wrong? Reggie clearly felt the same way, and they walked slowly towards him. “Yeah?” Reggie asked, “what’s up?” 

Weatherbee looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes at the informal way in which he was greeted, but he said nothing, instead turning to look at Jughead. “I hear you’re quite the writer, Mr Jones. Mrs Linn speaks rather highly of her new student.” 

Jughead blanched, caught off guard. “Uh- I-...I guess? I mean, I want to be a novelist-”

“I only mention it because the school’s old newspaper; the  _ BlueandGold,  _ has been dormant for a few years now. I thought it might be nice to bring it back. A good way for you to become more immersed into the school community.” He turned to Reggie, “and I can only assume you’d be invaluable given your father’s position, Reginald. If you can find the time away from the football field, that is.”

Jughead couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face, and he nodded eagerly. Weatherbee took it as the assent it was, and left to head back into his office so Jughead could turn to Reggie with glee. “This is exactly what you were talking about!” 

Reggie looked reluctant. “I don’t know, man- he’s right, I’d never get the time away-”

“Yes you would.” Jughead insisted, eager to try and repay the first real male friend he’d ever had. “I’ll be editor and you’ll be the reporter. Reggie Mantle: reporter, come on,” he looked up at him hopefully. “You know you want to. For me?” 

The taller boy wavered and Jughead grinned triumphantly. 

“We are going to revive the school paper!” He held his hand out for a high five, which Reggie gave reluctantly, as if he were afraid someone would see. 

“You’re such a dork.” He muttered, but Jughead could hear the excitement in his voice.

Not only would this be fun and useful and give Reggie the opportunity to pursue his dream, but it would also mean he could have something to take his mind off Betty. 

Life could be kind as well as cruel, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a happy ending will come, of course. These two can't stay away from each other!
> 
> Comment, darlings! 
> 
> MWAH MWAH 
> 
> PS The lovely descriptions of the woods/forestry come from the brilliant HufflepuffBetty. The girl says she ain't a writer, but I think she's got the heart of a poet <3


	9. The Pink Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead try to adjust to life without one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my lovelies!

Dust splatters into the air; jarring into a number of directions as Jughead lifts off the cover of the old typewriter with a flourish on Wednesday morning. He coughed, wiping his sleeve down the surface of the old keys as Reggie started pulling the white cloths off the tables. The old classroom, clearly now abandoned due to the fact the windows had been impossible to change out for the new regulation ones, was at the very top of the school building. Covered in a few years worth of dust and cobwebs, it was heavy with the smell of age and disuse. 

Josie flicked on the light and it took a few, long seconds for the bulbs to creak and turn on above them. The ebony skinned girl looked around and shook her head in mild distaste. “This is gross.” 

Ethel pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped down a chair; offering it to Josie who took it gratefully. “I don’t think it’s that bad,” she murmured, and Jughead shot her a smile. 

“It’s great. It’s like our own space. We don’t need to share the student lounge anymore because we have our own room.” He plonked himself down into the teacher’s chair and spun on it once. It complained under his weight. He watched as Reggie rolled up the fabric and tossed it into the back corner. He seemed wary, but mostly enthusiastic. The taller boy turned and they made eye-contact, and Jughead beamed. “You like it too, don’t you, Reggie?” 

He nodded, strolling over to examine the view. Jughead had seen it earlier. Through the grimy windows you could see out over the entire school and then further on, to the green fields and the forest. “It’s good. I mean- no one’s going to read the paper, but- I don’t know. Could be cool to write some stuff for it. Don’t you think, Jo?”

Josie hummed. “I guess I wouldn’t mind having a small column. Maybe on how to do hair.”

Ethel nodded eagerly. “I’d be happy to cover the drama club!”

Jughead grinned, clasping his hands together. “Awesome. I’m chief editor and Reggie’s head reporter, so you’ll have to report to us. Right, Reg?” He watched his friend soften under the idea and hoped that this went well. Reggie deserved to be happy, and though Jughead hadn’t seen any of his writing yet, Reggie was smart and capable and if he wanted to be a journalist, then he’d he make an amazing one. He was brave and followed his instincts.

The broader boy turned to face them, haloed by the grey light of outside, and shot them all a cocky grin. “I think Head Reporter should be higher than Chief Editor, right? And why not Chief Reporter?” 

They laughed.

 

But such joyful escape could not last forever, and it was with a significant amount of trepidation that he walked to Biology. He hadn’t seen Betty yesterday; resolutely keeping his eyes away, but when he’d gotten home, he’d just stared at his phone, fingers hovering over letters and wondering what he might say and how he might say it. So she was a vampire? So what? They clearly didn’t hunt humans and they were still good people. All it had really done for him was enhance his fascination about her and reassure him that there was more to the world than what he’d assumed. There were things of mythology roaming around as if it were perfectly natural. Perhaps mermaids existed too, and werewolves or fairies. It was nice to think that maybe, some of the childhood stories, retained and existed in the real world. That maybe the real world wasn’t as dull and shallow as he had once thought. 

Reggie clasped him on the shoulder, and even Josie shot him a sympathetic look as they headed down the hallway. “You’ll be fine, bro. Who needs her anyway?”

Did Jughead  _ need  _ her? He didn’t think he needed her, but he certainly wanted her. He braced himself, before heading into the classroom. She was there, sat at the desk looking completely indifferent as she doodled in her book. She’d look gorgeous in everything, he was sure, but today her beauty was complimented by a hot pink jumper and a chequered wrap skirt. Her hair hung down both shoulders, gold and shiny, and she didn’t look up.

He took a deep breath and moved towards her. This would be easy. He could respect her wishes and leave her alone. It would be just like Phoenix. He sat down, seeing Reggie in his peripheral but ignoring him for the moment as he unpacked his stuff. He made sure to keep to his side of the desk and not pass the invisible line that now ran between them. It helped that the lesson was interesting. 

Mr Drakker spends most of the time at the board so he has somewhere to focus his attention as he learns about active transport. It’s harder than he thought it would be though, not to turn to her. He has to hold himself rigidly. 

It hurts more than he thought it would too. Knowing that she’s right there but that she doesn’t want him to talk to her.  _ There are other girls  _ his dad had said. He was probably right, but none of them were like the one beside him. How dearly had his actions cost him? Now that she wouldn’t even be his friend when before that’s all she’d wanted? 

“Mr Jones, did you hear my question?”

Jughead’s head snapped up to look at Mr Drakker, his pencil clenched in his fist as he realised he’d been zoned out. A few of the nearby students turned to look at him with mild interest, and he could feel his face heating up. “Uh, yes please?” He managed. This was brilliant. So embarrassing. And Betty was right here to witness every second of it. 

“I said: the movement of oxygen into a cell until equilibrium is reached without the use of ATP is an example of..?” 

What the  _ hell  _ was he talking about? Jughead turned to stare at the board, trying to slow his pounding heart. He just had to relax. The diagram showed a number of small circles heading for a wall of circles. Okay, well movement, surely, what types were there? He went through them under his breath: active transport, surely not- it was too obvious. Osmosis? No, it wasn’t water. Diffusion, maybe? The answer, when it came to him, was a sweet relief. “Passive transport?” He ventured nervously, a dark strand of hair falling from his beanie into his forehead. He yanked his hat down some more, eager to hide his blushing face. 

Mr Drakker was looking curiously at him, but smiled. “That’s right. Okay, and as we see here…” 

A piece of paper landed on his desk and he jerked before realising it wasn’t some type of animal. He looked down at the paper airplane and then around the room to see Reggie winking at him. Jughead had to resist the urge to groan. For all his best friend claimed to be a pioneer of the 21st century, he certainly liked to copy classroom antics from the 60’s.

With one watchful eye on Mr Drakker, as it wouldn’t do to be seen slacking off again, he unfolded the plane carefully. 

Written in lovely cursive, was the word  _ nerd  _ with a heart beneath it. 

He snorted loudly, laughing despite himself, and trying desperately to turn it into a cough when Mr Drakker shot him a warning glance. He crammed the paper into his book, and shot Reggie an admonishing, appreciative look before trying to continue with the lesson. He focused more on the classroom of people beside him than the one person to the left of him. He saw Melody for the first time, sitting beside Valerie just ahead of Josie and Reggie. He couldn’t make out much, but she had dark skin and curly hair. He hoped she didn’t like him the way Reggie had indicated. He wasn’t sure why she would, but he didn’t want to have to dredge further into highschool gossip to determine who liked her so he could scoot away quietly and without much fuss. 

And on that strain- he knew he had to find Dilton Doiley. He’d never met the guy and didn’t have a clue what he looked like, but he figured it was his best shot. Ethel was too nice to hurt and she’d been his first real friend since getting here. Nearly everyone had signed her cast, aside from the Andrews’ of course, and this fact made Jughead frown. That was very...standoffish, wasn’t it? Everyone had seen the accident, but then-

He hummed to himself. An Andrews, a very beautiful one sitting right beside him, had stopped that accident from becoming a real  _ accident,  _ and risked exposing themselves to do so. Maybe they were exempt from having to sign a cast. But that was also a thought- Betty had risked  _ exposure  _ to try and save him. Why? Because she was a  _ good  _ person. And it was this reason precisely that told him why he couldn’t agree with Reggie’s brandish but well-meaning slander of her. Despite her actions or what she may have said, he knew that deep down she was good and nice in a way that not many people were. Girls, especially beautiful girls, could be cruel and vindictive and shallow. Jughead had had the displeasure of meeting a great many. He supposed it was difficult, trying not to let the popularity get to your head, but Betty...Betty superseded all of that. 

If she wanted him to leave her alone then- then he would. He owed her that much. 

Besides, he had a mission, and that was to find Dilton Doiley. 

If he didn’t die in gym first. 

…

…

…

 

It’s been just over twenty-four hours and Betty already can’t cope. 

She can’t bear to think it, but maybe she nearly- maybe she does- it’s so hard to say. Love is complicated. All she knows is that life with Jughead is making life without Jughead seem unbearably worse. She sits at the piano upstairs, staring out at the green, but she can’t look at it without thinking that the forest doesn’t have a dime on the green of her human’s eyes. The melody is the tone of her thoughts, the melancholic music floats into the air. She closes her eyes, fingers moving on instinct as she lets the sadness fill all the spaces she used to be happy. 

Perhaps Jughead had given her a gift by allowing her to feel, but the downside of that gift is that now she knows what pain and sadness feel like. She’s trying desperately to block out the thoughts of those around her, but she can’t. Polly’s gone for the day; visiting one of her friends, and Betty is relieved for that at least. She doesn’t want to know what she’s done to the future. Twisted and mangled as it will be. But she can hear everyone else. 

Hermione is sewing a new dress for Cheryl’s birthday that’s coming up, but she keeps pausing in her stitching to think forlornly about Betty. Privacy is something they don’t have in this house, not with Jason, Polly and Betty around, so they’re all open with each other. She’d told them what she’d done and immediately gone for a run so she didn’t have to hear the simultaneously smug thoughts of Cheryl and Jason.  _ Poor Betty. She deserves love. She’s so wonderful. Veronica was certain he was her soulmate. Why is she torturing herself like this? Does she think she doesn’t deserve him?  _ Hermione’s thoughts went vehenemous  _ she does.  _

Betty let a groan of pain pass her lips, and Jason heard it briefly from where he and Archie were cutting wood outside. She’s not sure she can stomach Jason’s thoughts, but anything’s better than Hermione’s endless quest for Betty’s happiness, so she lets herself listen to his mind. She’s surprised by the lack of hatred, in fact…  _ She’s sad. She’s...sad.  _ His thoughts are unsettled, unhappy themselves.  _ I didn’t think she’d be this broken up- I thought- well  _ he pictures Jughead, for the first time in a positive light, and tries to find the things about him that he can focus on besides his scent.  _ I guess she  _ _ was  _ _ really happy. Poor Betty, I didn’t realise…  _

She can’t bear that either, so she trusts that Archie, her beloved Archie, will bless her with some happier thoughts.  _ Maybe if Jason’s feeling up for it we can have a quick fight- only if he promises not to use his powers. I wonder how Betty is. She knows what she’s doing. Is this enough wood for dad?  _

If she had the energy, she’d smile. Cheryl’s reading downstairs, as she has been for the past few hours, she’s been hyper focused on the words to keep some privacy so Betty hasn’t been paying much attention, but as her song drifts to the heartbreaking bridge, the red-head downstairs falters, and her mind betrays her. 

She and Jason realise it at the same time. Jason thinks  _ Cheryl feels guilty  _ just as Cheryl thinks  _ What did I do?  _ She’s imagining Betty feeling the same way that she does: empty and alone. She’s viciously sorry all of a sudden. Well, Betty thinks to herself, at least one good thing has come of this. Cheryl’s learnt to think beyond herself. Betty’s probably being unfair to her sister, but she doesn’t care. She blocks out Cheryl’s lament for Betty’s lost love. Fred’s at work, so she doesn’t have to worry about him, but there is someone else in the house and-

She jumps when Veronica comes to join her on the bench, pressing into her side.  _ Surprised you, huh?  _ V thinks,  _ that’s a first. You must be thinking really hard. _

Betty nods, leaning her head on top of Veronica’s as her sister rests her cheek on her shoulder. Her hands come out to join Betty’s melody; a few extra chord here and there to give the song more depth. “It’s only been a day and I miss him,” she whispers, knowing everyone will be able to hear her. She tries to drown out their reactions by listening to Veronica. 

_ Figures you would. You two have the strongest bond I’ve ever seen. _

“It can’t be like that.” She says in a level voice, since whispering is futile. “I won’t do that to him.” 

_ Do you have to? Maybe you can just be with him as he is? Just don’t touch. There are such things as non-sexual relationships, right? I mean it won’t last forever, but it’s a fix for now?  _

Betty shakes her head. She’s thought of that. If Jughead would even take her back at this point, after all the times she’s turned around and rejected him, she’s not going to ask him to give up more for her. 

_ Okay. Whatever you do, B, I’ve got your back. And you know-  _ Veronica laughs, interrupting her thoughts,  _ I mean- the boy who kissed a vampire? He’s something else.  _

That draws a reluctant smile out of the blonde. “He really is.”

 

Cheryl’s been thinking about Betty all night when the sun rises on Wednesday morning. Betty’s been listening to the way the fierce beauty has been turning it all over in her head, and she’s impressed with Cheryl’s resolve. Cheryl has decided that she and Betty have no right to be lonely- because they have each other. 

So when Cheryl walks into Betty’s bedroom to propose driving to school together, Betty’s already holding the keys to her mini. 

“I should have known you’d be spying,” Cheryl sighs without any heat, as they go down to the garage together. “Were you listening the whole night?”  

Betty smiles. “I can’t turn it off, Cheryl. Besides, they were very lovely thoughts. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

The scarlet vampire bristles as they get into the car. “I’m not ashamed. I know how amazing I am.” 

Betty laughs. And it is nice. It’s nice to drive to school with a Cheryl who isn’t something mean about her constantly. It’s nice to be with her sister when she’s  _ trying,  _ and Betty hadn’t realised how much she’d missed her. But she has. Enormously. She’s been judging her sister too harshly. Cheryl had thought Jason would be hers; was certain that Veronica would see the gold bond between them and when Veronica hadn’t...well, Cheryl hadn’t kicked up a fuss. She’d let Polly be happy. 

It was a warm, selfless act, and Betty feels as if it hasn’t been appreciated as much as it should have been. She tells Cheryl as much; how proud she is of her sister. How hard it must have been, and the warmth that settles into her mind shows how much she needed to hear it. “Let’s have the boys pair up in gym today. We can stay indoors. Badminton, isn’t it?” 

Betty nods. They get the choice between outdoor gym or indoor gym and most weeks- well, every week- they go outside. It’s not  _ as  _ unbearable as the indoor one. They have to hone in their powers so much to get away with looking normal that it seems hardly worth it. But today, the idea of being idle with Cheryl inside, is very nice. “Sounds good.” 

_ She’s going to see him today. I wonder if she’ll be strong enough not to say anything?  _

Betty resisted the urge to answer the question. Cheryl wasn’t as fine with it as Archie, Polly, Fred, Hermione and Veronica were. She would be strong enough though. She had to be.

“I heard about Veronica’s proposal.” Cheryl murmured, as they walked into the building. Betty was being careful not to look in Jughead’s direction, but Reggie’s car was there. “It’s not a terrible idea, is it? How long do they live? Around 80 years these days. Be happy for 80 years.” 

Betty shook her head. “It’s a speck compared to eternity and it would just make the rest of my time worse than ever.” 

_ Maybe. But isn’t some joy better than none? I guess not if it means more grief. Shit. She’s in such an awful position. I can’t believe I was being so conceited. Fred’s right. I’ve forgotten how to be human. Betty seems so human lately. I bet she’d cry if she could. _

Betty tried her best to ignore her. Besides, she had other things to worry about. Like Jughead in biology. 

 

There were goods and bads to everything though. She kept her eyes downcast as he came in, but Reggie’s thoughts were alight and she couldn’t help but listen to them. Ah, so her memo about reviving the  _ BlueandGold  _ had come to fruition then. It was nice to see that humans were still as easy to manipulate as she remembered. And yes- Jughead, in all of Reggie’s memories, had been encouraging and eager. 

She felt like she had repaid a part of her debt to the broad-shouldered, sharp jawed boy. He was going to get the chance to be a reporter and do what he loved- hopefully impress his father too. Humans had such wonderfully realistic dreams. Nothing was too far out of reach for them. She envied their joy and simple pleasures. 

Being away from Jughead meant that she wasn’t as descentiszed to his scent, and she had to stop her breathing for a while against her wave of desire for him. She hadn’t been strong enough to go to his house last night, and in her time away from him she’d downplayed how tempting his blood was. It was the same tidal wave of bloodlust that she first remembered. But she didn’t have to speak to him. She could hold her breath for as long as she liked as long as he didn’t talk to her. Though she couldn’t even rely on that. He proved to be randomly brave and determined when he decided to be. 

But, to her surprise, disappointment and relief, he didn’t talk to her at all. She’d been sorely tempted to whisper the answer to Mr Drakker’s question to him, having plucked it out of the teacher’s head, but he’d come up with it on his own, and she’d smiled behind her hair. He didn’t need her, she thought forlornly. Mr Drakker was a little concerned too. He liked Jughead, Betty noted. Most people did; teachers and students alike, even if they hadn’t directly spoken to him.

Though she wondered what he’d been thinking about that he’d become so sidetracked. Was it possible he was thinking of her? She didn’t want him to be- but- but a part of her wanted him to be. She heard Reggie writing his note just before he sent it and tried not to stare or swoon over Jughead’s smile, or his deep, alluring chuckle. 

_ I’m glad he’s in a good mood  _ Reggie was thinking,  _ even if he is next to the ice-queen. At least we’ll have gym. But shit- hahaha, gym!  _

Betty wondered what that meant, but before Reggie could grace her with thoughts of Jughead in gym previously, Josie was whispering something to him and his attention was sidetracked. It did present her with a new problem though. Of course Jughead would be in gym. He probably always did the inside one with how clumsy he was and his general dislike of activity in particular. She was sure she’d heard him say his favourite class was lunch. It would be okay though, it would mean more exposure to his scent- delicious and mouthwatering as he dripped with sweat, providing he moved enough to generate any- and she and Cheryl would stick to the the furthest away from wherever he was. It would also mean she could protect him- which she needed to be doing. 

Whether he was with her or not, she needed to make sure he stayed safe. 

 

She discovered the source of Reggie’s humour at 11am in gym class. 

She’d never seen Jughead kitted out in the school’s mandatory yellow tee and blue shorts, but he was clearly uncomfortable in the clothes. Cheryl and Betty took the Badminton court nearest the edge, and lethargically began tossing the shuttlecock back and forth. It was far too slow to be any fun, and Cheryl’s thoughts were nicely occupied by wondering what everyone was going to get her for her birthday, so Betty was free to observe.

Jughead was holding his racket gingerly in his fingers, and hiding behind Reggie as they paired up on one side of the court to play against Midge and Moose. Reggie took his role as dominant rather well, and shielded Jughead accordingly; prancing around the court so the blue-haired boy could stand in the corner and watch. 

Why wasn’t he playing? Couldn’t he play? Betty watched; fascinated, when Coach Jennifer stopped. 

“Mantle!” She called, “you letting Jones play?”

_ Crap  _ Reggie thought, shooting Jughead an apologetic look. “Sorry, Coach!” He called, gesturing to the space ahead. 

Jughead winced, and Betty turned her head completely to watch now. He wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t even noticed Cheryl and Betty were in this class. He was remarkably unobservant in gym, apparently. His eyes stuck to the floor. She hit Cheryl’s passes without having to see them come, and watched as Jughead stepped shakily towards the net. He lifted his arm, and swung down and Betty watched in amazed horror as the racket hit the net before ricocheting back into his own face, as the shuttlecock spluttered before whacking Midge in the eye. 

Her jaw dropped as Jughead cursed, grabbing his nose in pain as he ducked under the net to Midge. “Shit! I’m so sorry-”

“Jughead, are you okay?” Reggie worried, rushing over to join them. Midge’s eyes were watering, Betty could smell the sharp scent of her tears and it caught Cheryl’s attention too. 

“What happened?” The beautiful vampire whispered.

“Jughead accidentally hit Midge.” Betty whispered back, laughter in her voice. Oh, he wasn’t just clumsy in gym. He was a  _ menace.  _ Coach Jennifer had similar thoughts as she busied herself with another team. Betty’s laughter died away though, as jealousy coiled in her stomach at the way Jughead’s hand curled around Midge’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry,” he was saying repeatedly. 

“It’s fine,” Midge blushed under the attention, eye still twitching slightly. “Maybe we should both sit out-”

“Get away from her!” Moose ordered protectively, shoving Jughead away so he stumbled into Reggie’s chest. Betty could hear the testosterone-fuelled thoughts between two muscular men. 

“Don’t fucking touch him, man.” Reggie hissed, pushing Jughead behind him as Reggie did the same with Midge. 

“Moose!” Midge tried, clutching at his arm. “Calm down, babe!”

“You got a problem, Mantle?”

“Hey!” Cheryl called, surprisingly half the class, Betty included. “Didn’t you hear Jughead, you plebe? He said sorry. Now stop being such a buffoon and help your girlfriend.” She spat, turning back to volley the shuttlecock in what must have looked incredibly impressive to the humans, but was in reality; rather dull. 

Betty stared as Moose flushed, shamefaced.  _ Fuck, I guess he was just saying sorry. Fucking  _ _ Cheryl  _ _ think’s I’m being too harsh.  _ “Uh, sorry, Jug,” Moose mumbled, turning towards Midge. Jughead half waved at him, easy to forgive, hand still clutching his nose. “And you too, Reggie,”

Reggie looked just as stunned as Moose, and he guided Jughead back to his spectator position on the other side of the net. “Yeah.” He echoed.  _ What?  _ Reggie thought  _ Cheryl is now defending Jughead? She’s never said anything nice to anyone! What is going on with those Andrews girls? They’re being so weird.  _ “Do you wanna go to the nurse again?”

Again? When had he gone before? Betty watched in bewilderment through Reggie’s eyes as Jughead shook his head; embarrassed. “Was that Cheryl who said that?” He whispered in disbelief. Reggie laughed in amazement. 

“Yeah it was. And just guess who her partner is.” 

Betty turned to look at her sister; eyes wide, and Cheryl was half-smiling to herself.  _ It was kind of fun. Helping a human. Jughead seems kind of sweet.  _ “What?” She said aloud, and Betty caught the shuttlecock in her hand, shaking her head in admiration. 

“Nothing!” She called back, “I just forgot that I have  _ three  _ rather incredible sisters.” 

Cheryl humpfed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “And don’t forget it.” 

Such a rush of emotions being human was! Her worry over his hurt, her jealousy at him interacting with another girl, the possessiveness and determination and agony at the thought that Reggie might not have been there and Moose could have hurt him. It was such a whirlwind she could hardly believe it. 

_ Good thing he didn’t have a nosebleed  _ Cheryl thought to herself, and Betty swallowed thickly, her euphoria over the flux of emotions and the hilarity of Jughead’s complete lack of hand-eye coordination diminishing. What if there had been a nose bleed? She was nowhere near equipped enough to deal with the scent of his blood spilling out. If the family wanted to stay here, she would have to find that strength, and quickly. 

But it would come only from practise. She needed to spend more time with him, and since that was out of the question to do when he was conscious, she’d have to spend more time with him when he wasn’t aware of it.

Maybe it was a flimsy excuse, but she was eager for anything.    
  


The others were pleased to see Cheryl and Betty on better terms when it was time for lunch, and Jason didn’t have to promote a more relaxing atmosphere as he had been doing the past few days. He kept a close monitor of the emotions of the group regardless. 

“He’s going to look over in ten seconds.” Polly whispered, and they all tried to fidget in a human way. Betty resisted the urge to look around, instead dipping into Archie’s position opposite her. He had a perfect view of Jughead. The blue haired enigma was still in his gym clothes, and he and Josie were talking about the weekend. Betty wondered  _ why  _ he was looking over. She loathed herself for enjoying the attention. 

True enough, he did turn. It was a quick thing, as if checking they were all there, and he darted around quickly. 

“I don’t know, Josie. I’ve never talked to Melody.” He whispered.

“You need to get your mind off  _ her _ ,” Josie suggested, even though mentally she wasn’t sure that Melody and Jughead would have the necessary chemistry to mend his heartache. Ah, it was true then. Betty could see in Josie’s memories that Melody did have a  _ small  _ crush on the beanie-wearing boy. She clenched her fists furiously. Would she have no end of competition? “Who knows? Worst that happens is you make a new friend.”

Jughead snorted, crunching into a carrot stick. A carrot stick- Betty frowned as she watched through Josie’s eyes. She’d never seen him eat a carrot stick before. He seemed to prefer more greasy human food. Was he sick? “Trust me, I’m now well-versed with the worst thing that could happen and that is not it.” 

There was a small bruise forming over the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t the only bruise he had. Josie’s eyes couldn’t detect them, but Betty could see the small, pink marks on the underside of his jaw. She turned away guiltily. She shouldn’t be listening anyway.

_ He should be turned  _ Jason thought for the first time, and Betty’s eyes flashed to him warningly. He didn’t retract his opinion though, but he didn’t say it aloud either.  _ He should be. You love him. He loves you. This is the only way to have him forever.  _

The others continued on; unaware. “I know you’re not talking to him, Betty,” Polly began quietly, “but I’ve seen that me and him are going to be quite good friends in the future. Can I talk to him?” 

Betty glared at them. “No! You cannot! Leave him alone. All of you!” 

Archie and Veronica were suspiciously silent on their end, and were both thinking about song lyrics very hard. Betty shot them a look, and Archie slipped. They were in Jughead’s english class. A group project was coming up- they were planning on asking him to be in their group. She growled at the two of them, and Archie held up his hands in surrender.  _ Sorry Betts!  _ He thought, worried he’d hurt her feelings  _ he does seem so nice, and he knows what we are, doesn’t he?  _

“Just because he knows what we are doesn’t mean he’s your new friend.” She snapped, shaking her head adamantly.

Veronica was disappointed. She’d been eager at the idea of not having to hide in front of another human. “Anyone else we’re partners with is just going to be creeped out,” she tried, appealing for common sense. Betty refused to listen. 

Cheryl was watching Jughead carefully, admiring the slope of his neck and the curl of his hair.  _ He’s not hideous. When he sits still he’s almost kind of graceful. Makes the guy from gym seem like someone else  _ She thought to herself. Betty could feel jealousy rising within her viciously, and Jason shot her a surprised look as he detected. God what was wrong with her? Cheryl wasn’t attracted to Jughead, she was just looking, and Archie and Veronica just wanted a better partner and it wasn’t as if Jughead was in any danger from  _ them.  _ His scent was practically indistinguishable from the rest for the students. It didn’t have nearly the same appeal it had for her. Maybe Jughead was even  _ safer _ with Archie and Veronica. They’d certainly be able to protect him from the danger he seemed to gravitate towards himself.

But no- no. At least, not yet. She shook her head firmly, and the matter was dropped.

“He’s going to look again,” Polly chimed in a sing-song voice, and Betty sighed: disappointed and gleeful all at once. 

…

…

…

Jughead stared up at the ceiling, one arm tucked under his head. One of his old playlists was playing quietly in the background and though his clock was telling him it was past midnight, he just couldn’t get to sleep. 

He had his heater on full blast, and the blankets layered over his body as he let his mind wander. His nose was still a little sore, and his dad had freaked out when he’d seen it- accusing the school and asking Jughead if he was getting bullied and if there was someone FP needed to go and rough up. It was so new to have a parent who cared so much. 

His love for his father had prompted him to draft another email to him mom. But, just like last time, half way through he’d stopped writing it and shut his laptop down. Even if he wrote it, there was no guarantee she’d ever reply and it would just be his emotions lingering on a piece of digital air that lingered somewhere in the waves between them. 

There was a pause as his dad’s heavy footsteps lingered outside his room. “Hey, Jug?” His dad whispered, obviously checking if he was still awake. 

“Yeah, dad?” He croaked, watching and wincing as a gold light spilled from the hallway into his dark room. FP blocked it out as best he could, and smiled; warm and fond.

“I like this band.”

Jughead focused on the music.  _ Panic by The Smiths.  _ “Me too,” he grinned, adding this to the mental list of things they had in common. He tipped his head along to the music. “What’s up?” 

FP wiped his forehead; sweat already developing from the heat of Jughead’s room. “It’s so hot,” his dad chuckled, voice still quiet as if they were trying to hold onto the idea of sleep. Jughead snorted; it was just right. “But I was going to head down to Southside again for a repair on Saturday. I know you’re going out in the evening, but we could spend the morning there?” Jughead waited for what he knew was coming. “It might give you another chance to see Toni.” 

“Dad-” he sighed, before being cut off.

“She’s a nice girl, Jughead. And I know her granddad. They’re a good family, and apparently, she likes you.” 

He snorted. Toni was beautiful and far out of his league. He knew from experience and common sense that girls like that didn’t like him. “She just wants to be my friend, which I am more than happy with.” He wasn’t going to start pushing for more unless he was certain. Ever again. He’d learnt his lesson. Suddenly he could see both Toni and Betty in his head. Magenta vs gold, sunkissed vs snowtouched. Toni had been burning hot when she’d half hugged him, and when he’d kissed Betty, she’d been freezing. Truly polar opposites. 

FP shrugged. “Still. You should pursue it. Maybe you could even take her to Winter Formal.” 

Shit. Winter formal. Was he going now? He didn’t know. He clearly didn’t have plans with Betty anymore, and he was yet to let Melody and Ethel down gently. It occurred to him, somewhere rather distantly, how odd it was that all these girls seemed to like him. They were presumably just kind and pitying. “Maybe,” he offered, not wanting his dad to worry. “Alright, I’ll come.” It might be nice to see Toni anyway, get his mind off things. Maybe he could ask for her advice.

It was the right answer, FP beamed and bid him goodnight, closing the door behind him, letting the darkness wash over the bedroom. Jughead turned on his side, looking out through the windows. He slept with the curtains wide open, that way he got a view of the mossy black trees and the distant stars. He stared into the sky and sighed. 

His last thought before drifting off, was wondering what Betty’s favourite movie might be. She seemed like she’d have really good taste. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments, as always, are lovely and wonderful! Keep 'em coming! 
> 
> MWAH MWAH 
> 
>  
> 
> PS: How much Toni/Jughead do you want before Choni and Bughead get on track? Because there are a few people who want full on New Moon Jake/Bella antics, and others who might wanna get straight to the Bughead/Choni? Let me know!!!! There will have to be *some* I'm afraid, just for Jealous betty and lovely Cheryl-Toni hating each other before loving each other!


	10. The Tan Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty has a realisation and Jughead struggles with his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Betty doesn’t know who ‘Toni’ is, but she hates her more than she’s ever hated anyone ever. She hates that FP likes her, she hates that Jughead might like her, and most of all she hates that she’s from the otherside of the Preserve- a place that Betty can’t go and she has no one she could even use to spy. She hates that Jughead  _ might  _ take her to Winter Formal, because now when she thinks about it, she can just imagine the two of them together. This faceless, no doubt beautiful girl, and Jughead’s got his long arms around her, and he’s graceless in his movements, but has all the elegance he needs in the way his fingers will splay out over her waist, the way his head will duck shyly, how he’ll lean in to kiss her-

The branch creaks warningly under her grasp. She pulls her back, and waits. It takes a long time for Jughead to fall into a reliable slumber that he won’t stir from. He tosses and turns a lot, before finding comfort in an odd contortion in which one leg sticks out over the bed, and the other two are tucked under his chest. Once his heartbeat is soft and steady, she reaches out to open the window. She’s immediately accosted with the heat of his room. It almost makes her laugh how hot it is. Temperature doesn’t affect her kind but this is almost ridiculous. His smell too, is a familiar thirst that tortures her, but she can bear it if it means she can see him. 

She walks around his room slowly; categorising all the differences from the last time she was here. When it all- to use a human colloquialism- went to shit. She flushed internally at the memory, humiliation and lust coursing through her. For a brief moment, she’d held him. Touched his skin. Soft as clouds under her fingertips, but- she pulled her train of thought away. She’d marred him. And that was the least of the things she could do if she wasn’t careful. On his desk his english assignment was done, and she glanced through it. He’d chosen to do his study on the relationship in  _ The Taming of the Shrew,  _ wit and perseverance then, over classical romance. It wasn’t a bad idea. Also beside his laptop was a scattering of papers that she deduced to be for the school paper. A piece that had the faintest smell of Ethel and was written in her scrawl about the latest production by the amateur dramatics club was sitting there. For some reason, it was the only one that had been untouched.  

She reaches for his phone where it rests on the floor, and finds it still warm from where it was playing his music. She briefly considers going through it, but decides there are lines she probably shouldn’t cross. She just wants to see if Toni is in his contact list, but surely it doesn’t matter- she wouldn’t be able to cross the treaty lines either.  _ If  _ she’s a wolf. Sure Jughead had smelt of wolf and talked about a pink-haired girl, but is it the same one? Does Jughead even know what she is? Betty feels slightly smug. Jughead knows what Betty is and doesn’t mind. Hopefully the girl is a wolf and can’t cross the border. But is that a good thing? It just means that Jughead will have to go and see her. Not to mention that his house is situated right on the cusp of it. Toni’s essentially got free range to his front door. 

Just like Betty. 

She casts her gaze over him; soft and content knowing that he’s here and safe and with her. He makes sleep seem so alluring but she knows that even if she were human, she’d never sleep when he was nearby. She’d be too captivated by his face. By the easy rise and fall of his slow moving chest. She reaches out, very carefully, to touch a strand of his hair. It’s so  _ soft.  _ She would, if she could, cry laments about how soft it is. She twirls it ever so gently around her finger, moving at such a slow pace she probably looks painfully slow from even a human perspective. The black lock, with hints of blue, springs up towards her palm as she bends it. It’s almost... _ easy  _ isn’t the right word, but it is simpler to be near him now. To be so close to him and not afraid that she’ll kill him. She breathes in deeply, just because she can, and feels more confident in her ability.

His blood is something she...well, she’s not sure how she’s going to be able to cope with that. But it’s an eventuality. One day, maybe lots of days considering how clumsy he is, he’ll trip and get a cut. She’s meant to be his guardian angel, not his murderer, so she’ll need to be able to deal with it.

Fred probably has some tips. 

“Gold,” Jughead mumbles to himself, kicking away at the blankets. Though it’s nearly pitch black in his room, Betty can see perfectly, and his skin is flushed pink. He’s overheating. She contemplates switching off the heater, but worries the change of temperature will startle him into waking up. Instead, she cranks the window open more, letting a cool breeze sweep into the room.  _ Gold  _ is what he’s dreaming of. It’s so ambiguous. Gold as in the  _ BlueandGold _ ? Gold as in money? Gold means so much, especially to her. It’s the colour of their bond. It’s the colour of her own eyes when she’s freshly fed. She vainly hopes he’s dreaming of her eyes. She wishes she could read his mind. He subconsciously keens into the dewy wind, twisting into the direction of the window. 

Betty sits at the desk, watching Jughead and the night. She stays for the longest she’s ever stayed. She soaks in his scent and by the end of it, her skin is warm to the touch. She sits and watches and as the sun starts to peak its weary head in the distance of the long awaited morning, she recognises an absolute truth. As true as the lavender footprints the sun leaves in its wake as it creeps up the sky; sending jolts of amber through the trees; alighting each leaf with the copper tang of morning. A truth she has long since known, she thinks, but ignored. 

She loves him. 

She loves him here and now; sunbeams strewn across his face. She loves him in the dead blackness of night. She loves him angry, she loves him happy. She loves him eternally. 

Veronica was right.

She leaves through the window, shutting it behind her just as her skin starts to glitter like diamonds in the light. She’s a changed person. She’s a new Betty.

She’s a Betty in love.

…

…

…

 

It’s been a fairly normal Thursday so far. Jughead feels settled into the routine of his new school and caught up in his classes. He hands Mrs Linn his completed assignment and she smiles warmly at him. She’s his favourite teacher. She never oversets work, and it’s never too challenging, but nor is she lax and patronising. English is one of his favourite classes, but he’s also a little uncomfortable in it. None of his friends are in it. It’s the one class he has alone, which is nice in a way, but also daunting in that if the worst should happen- what’s  _ just  _ happened- he’ll have no one to be in a group with. 

Students start shuffling their chairs in excitement to get to their bestfriend and Jughead looks around the room curiously. He jumps a little in his seat when he sees Archie and Veronica staring at him with equal scrutiny. He gets up, collecting his books and takes the now empty seat beside Archie. The resemblance between the two of them  _ is  _ striking, and he’s slightly worried he’s been wrong about this entire vampire thing and it’s just plain incest he’s witnessing, but he ignores it. They’re pale and beautiful, just like Betty. Beyond that, if he really tries to look beyond that, there aren’t that many similarities. Archie is huge. He’s enormous. With bulging muscles and his shirts, no matter which one he wears, stretch over his chest and arms. He’s handsome, but that’s a given. Veronica is superior, sophisticated chic. She looks like something out of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and if he’s honest, he’s a little disappointed at her lack of hat. Her smoky eyeshadow is perfect, as expected, though.

“Hey guys,” he greets, a little nervously. “Do you wanna be a group?” 

Veronica looks tempted, but it’s Archie who shakes his head. “No thanks,”

Jughead blinks, too surprised to be offended. Out of the pair, he’d pegged Veronica as the one who’d be more haughty. Evidently, he’s wrong. He pointedly looks around the classroom where all the groups have already been made. “I’m not sure you’ll find anyone else..?” He leaves hanging. He watches as they glance at each other, and then back at him. 

Veronica’s purple lips part: “maybe we could-” 

“ _ No.”  _ Archie insists more firmly, before sticking his hand up. “Mrs Linn, can Veronica and I work on our own?”

“Jesus,” Jughead whispers in awe. He turns to the teacher who looks as surprised as him. The rest of the class are watching too; trying and failing not to be obvious about it. He turns away, bewildered at the hostility though not hurt by it. They’re so  _ obviously  _ mean that he doesn’t take it at all personally. He looks up at the woman who seems as if she’s struggling for what to do. “I’ll work alone,” he offers, “if that’s okay?” He asks, trying to make it easier for her.

He presses his lips together at the obvious sympathy in her eyes, and she nods. He collects up his stuff and heads back to his original seat. A couple of the girls opposite shoot him encouraging looks but he ignores them in favour of looking at his book. It’s the first time he’s ever actually witnessed the cruelty of the Andrews Clan- ignoring Betty on his first day. He remembers Archie waving at him last week- what had happened? 

A cold feeling dawns on him. Had Betty..? Oh. She must have. Told her family to stay away from him. That’s how much he’d offended her. That’s how much she doesn’t want him. It’s a humbling, humiliating feeling, and he doesn’t deserve the slack that Mrs Linn cuts him in sympathy. He frowns as he mulls things over. If Betty had warned them to stay away from him, then why had Cheryl come to his aid yesterday? And why did Polly keep smiling at him whenever he saw her in the halls? Like she knew something he didn’t know?

He was getting a little bit sick of that expression. 

He slinks out of the class as the bell rings, and is considering hiding in the library to mope, when he sees the flash of a scout badge move in his peripheral. His head whips around as he spies the edge of a red scarf moving around a corridor. It’s Dilton Doiley. He’s about to rush after him when an arm of stone cuts him off and he trips into it- it collides with his chest painfully and he stutters in a gasp of pain. 

“Shit! Bro, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Archie asks, as Jughead doubles over. He feels as if he’s run into a metal pole at tremendous speed. Veronica is suddenly on his other side, and the swarm of students rushing to their next class start going around them, like they’re jutting rocks in a rushing river. 

Jughead wheezes, straightening up, wincing at the pain. There’s gonna be a bruise for sure. He nods; Dilton still on his mind, as he tries to push past. 

Archie doesn’t let him. He keeps one hand on his shoulder; gentle, but he’s unable to move all the same. Jughead swallows thickly, and turns to look at him. He straightens up, summoning some bravery. When he stands at full height, he’s actually got a few centimetres on Archie. It’s barely noticeable, but every little helps. “If you’re going to pummel me, it’d be better to do it  _ not  _ in a hallway of students, right?” He snarks.

Archie lets him go like he’s been burnt. “No, dude!” He says, eyes wide and earnest, and he’s so close Jughead can see his irises. They’re the same, molten ambery-gold of Betty’s eyes. Well, the colour of her eyes on some days. “I just…” Archie struggles for a moment, “I just wanted to say sorry about the group thing, it’s just we-”

_ Oh.  _ Jughead feels like an idiot. He gives them both a half smile, easing away from them. “It’s totally fine, I get it. Tell Betty again that I’m sorry, will you? Or don’t, if she doesn’t wanna hear from me-” he starts walking backwards, only to stumble over his ankles and whirl away down the hall in the direction he thinks Dilton went. “Bye!” He throws over his shoulder, slinking through the wave of pupils. After some manic dodging, he does reach Dilton Doiley, as he’s changing his books at his locker between classes. Jughead jogs up to him, still panting, as he leans against his locker. “Hey,” he pants. His chest still aches and he wonders just how strong vampires are. Mythology hadn’t prepared him for that. He’d thought Betty’s feat of heroics with the truck had been a fluke. 

Dilton gives him a curious look, before turning back to his locker. “Hello.” 

“You’re Dilton Doiley, right?”

Another pause. Jughead’s subjected to another careful glance, before the smaller boy nods. His tan shirt is glittering in badges and pins depicting little scenes of wildlife and tasks. “I am. And you’re Jughead Jones, the boy who was nearly killed last week.” 

Jughead tips his head. “Yeah, I am.”

“I know.” 

He snorts to himself, internally rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms. “Okay, listen, man, should I ask Ethel to the Formal or not?” Bluntness is probably the best approach.

That gets a reaction. Dilton splutters, a few of the books slipping from his hands and clanging onto the metal shelf of his locker. “W-what?” He asks, eyes wide behind his thickly rimmed glasses. 

Jughead nods, reaching out to straighten the mess with a casual hand. He keeps his voice nonchalant. “Yeah, Ethel? I was going to ask her to Winter Formal but then apparently you and her are a thing? I don’t wanna step on any toes, man. You with her or is she game?” He cringes a little at the words, but Dilton’s too much of a spluttering mess to notice his faux-misogyny.  

“I-I- I mean, we- I- don’t take her.” He blurts. 

Jughead nods, adjusting the cravat around Dilton’s neck so the knot’s a little more centred. He pats Dilton’s chest once he’s done. “Not a problem. She likes tulips.”

Jughead chuckles to himself as he heads to his next class, leaving Dilton hastily scribbling a reminder on his hand to buy tulips on the way home. 

…

…

…

“You did  _ what?”  _ Betty shrieks, staring at Archie and Veronica with her jaw dropped. They shrug guiltily, both of them instead staring at the racing scenery that flashes past them. Cheryl really should drive more conspicuously, especially when they’re all in the land rover. 

“In our defence,” Veronica begins carefully, “you’re the one who said to leave him alone-”

“Yes, ‘leave him alone’ not make him feel like you hate him! Oh my god,” Betty buried her face in her hands. She’d seen Jughead’s surprised expression through their memories; heard Archie’s brusque refusal and how he was now going to be working  _ alone.  _ “He’s the only person in the class who’s going to be doing this assignment by himself! How could you do that to him?” She exclaims.

The others were wisely staying out of it, but Archie pouted. “We did what you told us to do, Betty! I felt so mean, but you said-”

She raises her hand to cut him off, irritated mostly at herself. “Next time,” she whispers, intended for everyone in the car, “if it’s being with you or him being sad- pick the former.” 

Jason wryly thinks  _ even me?  _ And Betty throws him a confirming glare.

Polly’s visions have become stronger. The future is definite, or so she thinks.  _ Can I talk to Jughead yet?  _ She chirps eagerly.

“No.” Betty growls, and Cheryl sighs in frustration and not having heard the conversation. 

_ Well what would you like me to do tomorrow? There’s a good chance we’re going to be paired up in history. Can I just ignore him?  _ Polly thinks forlornly. Betty watches the snippets Polly’s seen- blurry around the edges, that Mr Furley clearly hasn’t quite made up his mind on the pairings yet- but it is a possibility. 

She sighs. Already they’re all so intertwined with him. Why do they even go to school? Why does Fred enroll them? Of course she knows why. It’s to be more conspicuous but now it just feels like an endless series of problems. “Be nice,” Betty offers, “but not too nice.” 

“What are you talking about?” Cheryl whines in frustration. “Are we allowed to talk to him, then?” 

Betty blinks in surprise. “You  _ want  _ to talk to him?” 

_ Well yeah, if you  _ _ love  _ _ him, which JJ says you do. He’s going to be in the family one way or another, why postpone any formal meetings?  _ “Why not?” She says aloud, “I should grace him with my presence sooner rather than later.” 

Jason laughs, but Betty shakes her head. “Polly only for now. The rest of you- bare minimum nice, and no approaching unless you have to.” 

_ You do love him now, though  _ Jason thinks, and Betty closes her eyes in exasperation.  _ You do, I can sense it. You’re not going to keep leaving him alone and ignoring him? You love him!  _ There’s disbelief colouring all his thoughts. As if he doesn’t think Betty would be able to. 

But she will. “As long as he hasn’t realised he loves me, we can still avoid this. And has he?” 

Jason’s eyes flicker away and Betty presses her lips together in tortured victory. No. He hasn’t. Whenever Jason scans his emotions, all that Jughead feels is a mix of curiosity and a strong like for Betty on the surface. Buried far beneath, Jason can detect the love, but Jughead operates as if he doesn’t know it’s there.  _ He’s a human. They’re a little slow.  _ He thinks consolingly. 

“Good,” Betty says determinedly, not taking the bait. “That means we can still save him, then.” 

_ Poor Betty  _ Polly thinks, trying to keep it hidden by focusing on what the weather will be like for the next few days, but unable to to drown it out.  _ Maybe if she realised this was all going to happen anyway she wouldn’t have to struggle and hurt.  _

Betty grits her teeth in annoyance. There’s nothing like trying to win a losing battle to grate on your nerves.

 

Fred’s there when they get home, having completed an early shift at the hospital and his thoughts are on Cheryl’s birthday. Betty ought to start thinking about it too, especially since her sister is so hard to please, but she can’t keep her thoughts straight at the moment. Is Polly right? Is it inevitable? Is she just prolonging her pain for absolutely no reason? 

But, no- he needs the chance at a normal life. She makes a resolution to herself. If he ever realises he loves her, if he ever realises that he does love her (and he does love her, which warms her in a way she didn’t know she was cold) then she can give up. She can stomach her own torture, but she couldn’t bear his. He should never for a moment think his love in unrequited. 

She only stays home to drop off her things before she heads out again. Polly gives her a smug look.  _ Have fun spying!  _ She thinks good naturedly, and Betty rolls her eyes. 

It’s more difficult than usual. Reggie’s house is on an open street without any places to hide. She ends up parking on the end of the road; glad she’s chosen Veronica’s car with the tinted windows- also because it’s used the least and won’t get recognised- as she settles in to listen and watch. Reggie’s perspective is the one she finds in the house first, but she also gets his mother upstairs, and the little brother Olly who’s currently asleep in his room. 

She can see Jughead and it’s a relief to get to look at him, even if it is through the eyes of someone else. They’re on the sofa playing a video game, and Reggie keeps looking at the screen instead of at the boy next to him which is frustrating, but Betty will take what she can get. 

“And Dilton really just went with it like that?” Reggie asks, chuckling, as his on-screen character shoots someone. 

She can just make out Jughead nod through his peripheral. “Yeah. He must really like her. Hopefully it all goes well.” He makes a grunt of frustration as Reggie cheers and turns to face him head on. Even in the weak eyes of this human, Jughead is a thing of beauty. There’s traces of dip around his mouth and bags under his eyes from his restless sleep, but it’s still him. Still the human she loves. 

_ Okay- how do I ask this without- god, I hope I’m wrong.  _ “Okay dude, are we gonna talk about this or what?” 

Betty’s certain her look of confusion matches Jughead’s exactly. “Talk about what?” He ventures warily, glancing around as if he’s not sure Reggie’s talking to him. 

_ Maybe I’m wrong.  _ “You’ve been wincing all day, man. Are you hurt?” Betty’s treated to a compilation of Reggie noticing Jughead wince and rub his chest sporadically throughout their classes.

“Oh! Oh, no, don’t worry,” Jughead hurries to explain, as Betty swallows against the wave of concern. “I just walked into wall.”

His heart blips. Betty sits up straighter. He’s lying. Why is he lying? 

Apparently, he’s not a very good liar. _Bullshit._ Reggie thinks. “Jug…” He says warningly. 

The blue haired boy sighs and swipes his hand through his hair. “Don’t freak out or anything, but Archie sort of bombarded me after class- I think he wanted to apologise about the group thing but he’s built like a ton of bricks and I accidentally sort of- I don’t know, it happened really fast, and he’s sorry, so don’t worry.” 

Reggie’s anger rises and falls. He lets out a harsh breath, and shakes his head. But Betty can see it now. Through Archie’s memories, she hadn’t thought anything of it and neither had he and Veronica, but Jughead  _ had  _ made contact with Archie’s arm, and hard. Archie probably hadn’t ben able to smell the blossom of hurt. He didn’t know how delicate Jughead was and is. The steering wheel groans under her grip and she has to work her fingers out of it so as not to leave a dent. She tries to calm down. The way that Reggie has. “You’re sure it was an accident?” He verifies, and Jughead nods with a half smile. 

“Yeah, and I bruise easy anyway.” 

“You’ve got a bruise?” 

Jughead lifts his shirt without much ceremony, showing a long blue bruise across his chest. It’s not that deep, but it’s bright and visible. Reggie winces and Betty’s hands deform the wheel. It doesn’t matter. She can buy Veronica a new car. “Shit,” Reggie hisses through his teeth. “At least you’ll look totally badass in the locker room.”

Jughead snorted, yanking his shirt down and picking up the controller. “I heal fast, it’ll probably be barely noticeable by next week. It’s not even that deep.”

_ Thank god. I really didn’t wanna have to kick Archie’s ass. That’s a fight I would not win.  _ Reggie thinks, yelping in dismay when Jughead cheats and starts the game ahead of him. 

Betty stars at the mess of the wheel; reeling. She needs to get her emotions in check. She feels overworked. So protective and worried that she can barely control it. She loves Archie, dearly, but in the last few moments she’s contemplated killing him and burning his body. Is love this all consuming? This all encompassing? It feels like sometimes she doesn’t know anything but him.

She vaguely remembers Fred teaching her about breathing techniques and she does her best to follow it; feeling her frayed nerves calm around the edges. She monitors the rest of the evening. Olly wakes up and she gets to watch as Jughead plays with him. 

He’s fantastic with kids. She’s not surprised. It stirs up long forgotten maternal fantasies, and breaks her heart all at once. He’d make an amazing father. FP would make an amazing grandfather. Both things they’ll never be if Betty ruins his life. He must have learnt the skills from looking after his sister because he’s a natural, and even Vicky Mantle watches from the kitchen and thinks  _ huh he’s got a knack.  _ She likes Jughead, and though her thoughts aren’t as sweet and harmless as Reggie’s, she’s still a fair person. She’s tired a lot of the time, and she wishes her husband were home a little more, but she recognises that life has been kind to her and doesn’t want for much more than she has.

It makes for the same, mostly contented mindset that Reggie has. A mindset not that frequent amongst humans. Betty wonders if Jughead has that mindset. Is he content? Does he yearn for more? If so- what? What are his hopes and dreams? She aches to know. 

Towards the evening, just as Reggie’s thinking about driving Jughead home, her human’s phone rings. Jughead answers, and she’s denied the sight of him as Reggie turns away politely to give him some privacy. So she just listens harder instead. “Hi dad,” he chimes.

_ “Hey, Jug. Just checking you’re alright,” _

Jughead’s heart beats a little faster and she wishes she could see his face. Is he smiling? She thinks he would be. “I’m fine, dad. Actually I think Reggie was about to give me a life home.”

_ “Yeah? Okay, good. Did you have fun?” _

Jughead laughs. Betty wonders  _ why  _ it’s funny. “Yeah, I did. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

_ “Okay. Stay safe….love you.”  _

The same heartbeat increase, before Jughead says softly: “love you too, dad.” 

She drives along behind them, making sure to keep her distance, as Reggie drops Jughead home. They talk about the  _ BlueandGold  _ and maybe taking a camping hike over the beginning of the Christmas break. Jughead’s staunchly against it if his comments are anything to go by, and yet Betty notices with a smile, that he hasn’t actually said no.

She gives Jughead his privacy for the evening- by which she means, about an hour to eat and be with his dad- as she turns to drive Veronica’s car back home. Hopefully she won’t notice the wheel for a while- not until Betty’s had it replaced.

She drives aimlessly for as long as she can to eat up time. She can hardly bear to stay away from him longer than the time it takes to get home and park. The sun is long gone now, and she runs back to his house just in time to see him head into the bathroom for a shower. He’s humming to himself. He’s happy. He’s safe. Nothing’s happened to him in the few moments that Betty’s been away.

She allows herself a sigh of relief, and wonders how she’s going to cope on Saturday. 

…

…

…

 

He keeps dreaming about her. 

It’s getting worrying. 

She doesn’t like him in that way- or at all anymore, but as Jughead stands under the hot spray of the shower, all he can think about is her. How he sees her nearly every night in his dreams now. A replay of their first lesson in biology going a thousand different ways. 

In his dreams he can think about the kiss without the crippling rejection that followed in reality. She’s beautiful, he knows that much, and the guys in the locker room- the cruder, older guys that Jughead doesn't like so much- always talk about what they’d do if they could have the Andrews’ girls to themselves for a night. Jughead doesn’t want to think about her like that, not if it’s going to make him seem like  _ those  _ guys. 

But she is so beautiful. He wants to kiss her, he wants to- he wants to do more than that. Maybe vampires didn’t kiss humans? Maybe if they’re all as strong as Archie, it wouldn’t make any sense as it would be too dangerous. But then- Betty has touched him. For a few blissful moments their bodies had been connected and he hadn’t been hurt. He’d been held entirely in her grasp when she saved him and she hadn’t hurt him. He’d felt so safe.

She can’t be scared of hurting him. She must just not- it doesn’t matter. He’s careful not to get his hair wet as his mind wanders. It might be nice to just hold her hand. Did vampires hold hands with humans? 

He wishes he knew more about it. 

He hums, switching off the spray as he thinks about it. Toni clearly knows some of the Southside legends, maybe he can ask her about it this weekend. Pry for information like the chief editor of the school newspaper he’s meant to be. 

He flops into bed; thoughts switching suddenly to Olly’s tiny beaming face. He turns to the photo of him and Jellybean and he aches. He reaches a hand out to spin the frame away to face the wall and swallows thickly. 

Maybe he should email his mom. 

He pushes the thoughts away, like he’s been doing a lot recently, and shuffles towards the side of the bed nearer the heater. Saturday night might be good for him. Teenagers drink and fritter away their time- he’ll do it too. It might give him a chance to feel more normal. 

And yet- his traitorous mind reminds him- he’d thought Betty had liked him as a weirdo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not, my lovelies, Jug and Toni will share one semi-awkward kiss before discovering their friendship! Also, I know, not enough Jug/Betty interactions here but you'll get loads next chapter! We'll have some jealous Juggie, a nice romantic bughead dinner, protective Betty, and the infamous *hero Edward saving Bella from...lets call them muggers but with Betty and Jughead* so a little bit of warning for attempted mugging and then they might have one or two nasty thoughts about Betty before she sets them straight.
> 
> All that to look forward to! And yes, yes, Cheryl is definitely going to get her happiness! She just might have to learn how to deal with having a wolf mate before that can happen ;) 
> 
> Your feedback is so wonderful it makes my day! Comment, my darlings!


	11. The White Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead learns about Toni and Betty learns to be selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a goliath of a chapter my lovelies, we're talking 12,000 words here! I hope you enjoy! The first 2/3rds of this chapter has been lovingly betaed by HufflepuffBetty, which is why quality presumably decreases towards the end ;) 
> 
> WARNING: We have an attempted mugging here, some unsavoury thoughts and thoughts of violence. Be wary, my chickadees!

“So we’re partners!” Polly beamed, taking the seat opposite him before Jughead even had the chance to look at the pairs on the board. He stared at her with wide eyes. Yes the Andrews Clan looked alike, but Polly and Betty had an astounding resemblance. Their blonde hair and similar style shocked him for a moment, before he tried to relax. Whatever memo Betty had given the rest of her family about avoiding him; Polly clearly wasn’t listening to it. He swallowed thickly, glancing around the History class before half nodding. 

He picked up his pencil and gestured to the book. “Uh yeah, I guess so.” He mumbled, curious but nervous all the same. “Did you have any idea what you wanted to do it on?”

The bubbly girl ignored his sullen voice and smiled at him brilliantly. He was dazzled by the whiteness of her teeth and the sparkle of her honey eyes. “Nope! Whatever you’re interested in, I would be more than happy to do it on.” She chirped brightly.

He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise but looked down at the book oblidgingly. There were a lot of topics to choose from and he found himself lingering on Rasputin and the court of Nicholas II. “How about late tsarist Russia?” He asked, chewing on the inside of his mouth as he tried to figure out a title. Polly nodded, leaning forward across the table to glance at the book with him. Her hand touched his and he reflexively pulled back at the icy chill. 

“Sorry, cold hands,” she said with a knowing smile, before looking at the page. “I like it. We could look at the missing daughters? Maybe the Red army? Political or familial?” 

She knew that he knew. She knew that he knew what she was...And she was still fine discussing history with him. He smiled, nodding. “Red vs white army? We could cover the tragedy where they were all taken down into the basement? We could maybe hone the question to why they had to die?” 

Polly was going through the textbook and marking down pages they may need. She barely glanced at them before bending the page and Jughead watched in fascination. The text in the thick, old book was  _ tiny  _ and rarely titled on every page, and yet she flipped through it astoundingly fast. He remembered Betty across the lot, and then suddenly kneeling over him as the truck careened towards him. Fast  _ and _ strong, then. “Do you want to start from where Rasputin was introduced to the court or skip ahead to his death?” 

She was making this astoundingly easy. Her big friendly eyes and easy-going smile gave him some confidence. There was one person, at least, in Betty’s family that didn’t hate him. Not to mention the fact that she knew what she was talking about. There were lots of topics on the list to have chosen from, and she’d been able to leap directly into the one he’d chosen and had insightful things to say. He was keen to work with her. “Maybe skip to just before his death. I love the legends around that.” 

She appraised him with warm eyes. “You like your monster stories, don’t you?” She asked in a fond voice.

He felt exposed to the bone under her gaze, and he flushed, looking away. “I like anything that’s not mundane reality, I guess.” He offered, thinking of the sci-fi and fantasy books he had adored as a youngster. He’d read them to Jellybean all the time and now- well, he didn’t touch them so much anymore. “Halloween is my favourite holiday.” 

Polly laughed, a melodic twinkling nearly as nice as Betty’s. “There’s something about Thanksgiving for me, personally.” She offered, her own eyes drifting as if she were remembering old holidays gone by.

“The turkey?” He guessed, mouth watering at the thought of gravy and mashed potatoes; before sobering up at his mistake. 

Polly shot him an incredulous look, and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles. Jughead laughed at her look of blatant disgust, and she snorted in delight. “Not quite,” she grinned, a glimmer in her eyes as Jughead warmed to her enormously. “I love the title, but I’m not actually very free to work on this outside of school in terms of meet ups, would you be fine if we did most of it online? A shared google document, maybe?” She winked at him. “I promise I always do my half.” 

He briefly wondered whether she wasn’t allowed to meet up with him because of her sister, but pushed the thought away. “That sounds great,” he said honestly, “and me too, I won’t slack or anything.” 

She beamed at him warmly. “I hadn’t pegged you as the type.”   
  


Aside from the pleasant surprise of making a new, tentative friend in Polly and now having two Andrews numbers in his phone, Friday passed by very quickly and soon enough it was Saturday morning and he and his dad were arriving at Southside. The sun was shining brilliantly on this side of town, breaking out over the clouds of grey to shimmer onto the beach. Even the water, which had looked like a pool of ink the last time he saw it, was a light, tempting blue. His dad hauled his equipment out of the back seat and looked at Jughead over the roof, and then he looked down to the beach. A flash of magenta hair was sitting on a rocks all alone. “You’ll be alright for a few hours?” FP asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Jughead threw him an unimpressed look. “We’re just friends, dad.” 

“Sure you are,” FP chuckled, “all I’m sayin’ is she knew we were coming and look where she is.” 

Perhaps his father had been quite the ladies man when he was a teenager, but Jughead most certainly was not, and as he approached Toni, the sand wet through the soles of his relatively worn shoes, his mind was not on romance, but on investigative journalism. His hair tousled in the mild breeze, and he stretched out his arms as he neared her. “Hey, Toni!” He called, over the gentle lapping of the tide.

She turned to face him, and he faltered slightly at the sight of her. Her skin shone in the sunlight; dark and beautiful. Her wide brown eyes and her fuschia hair a vision amongst the coastal nature around her. “Jughead,” she remembered, pink lips twisting into a grin. Her nose wrinkled as he got closer. “Everytime you come here, you know you reek?” 

He blinked in surprise, lifting an arm to sniff at his shirt. All he got was laundry detergent and deodorant. “Um?”

She rolled her eyes, kicking herself up. She wore black leggings and a long grey tank top- her arms were thick and muscular, tightly toned in a way that suggested she lived a very healthy life. He snorted to himself. She wasn’t the only woman in his life who made him feel woefully inferior. “Nothing. You up for a walk? I’m guessing you have stuff you wanna talk about.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the caves. He fell into step beside her as they treaded carefully along the beach. The tide had washed up some pebbles buried under a light layer of seaweed that made for a treacherous walk. Jughead kept his eyes peeled on the ground as Toni bounded ahead as deft as a billy goat. “You want to talk about the legends, don’t you?” She asked. She was smarter than she’d be letting on. 

He nodded, relieved when they reached the larger, flat rocks. “I have a few questions about the shadow-dwellers. It’s for an article I’m writing for the school newspaper. We’re reviving the  _ BlueandGold.”  _ Lies were better when they were half truths, weren’t they?

Toni hummed amusedly. “We have a school newspaper. Or had. The  _ RedandBlack.  _ I didn’t realise school newspapers reported on local legends.”

Jughead grinned to himself. “Consider it a personal interest piece.”

She shot him a look, standing with her back to an immense gaping cave entrance. She was scrutinising him, and he laid himself open to her gaze, wondering what it was she wanted to know. Whatever she saw there sated her curiosity, and she ran her fingers through her thick, luscious hair. “You’re different, aren’t you?”

Jughead laughed despite himself, coming to join her where the rocks gave way to smooth cave stone. “As much as I love it, I wish people would stop saying that about me. I’m going to develop a complex.” They entered the darkness together, and Jughead reached blindly for his phone’s flashlight. Toni laughed mockingly, but he ignored her in his quest to  _ see.  _ “So, you were telling me about shadow-dwellers?”

Another laugh, he shone his flashlight upwards but she was far in the distance now, hopping from one side of the cave to the other and trailing her fingers across the walls. He reached out one hand to drag against the wall himself, the other holding his phone as he followed. She deflected the question. “Why do you want to know? And no bullshit about a school article. Why do you  _ really  _ want to know? Did we scare you last time you were here?” 

Keeping Betty’s secret, in fact, the secret of all the Andrews, was his top priority. He shrugged. “I’m just interested. I’m all about the non-normal. I thought you’d pegged that about me.” 

A distant hum. He tripped over his laces and scraped his hand against the rock; a shallow groove of skin broken on his palm. He turned his phone up to the top of the cave; wet, black rock looked down at him, managing, even with its stone face, to seem unimpressed. Toni was suddenly in front of him, holding out her hand to guide him. “Put the flashlight away,” Doubtfully, he shoved it into his pocket and let her loop their hands together. Soon, it was pitch back, and he shuffled his feet, reluctant to lift them too high up off the ground, but Toni guided him easily deeper and deeper, until their breathing became an echoed song back to them. Eerie, but beautiful all the same. His eyes adjusted somewhat, and he could make out large craggy shapes here and there. This cave seemed endless, deeper and deeper it went into the cliffside. “These caves run deep,” Toni said, as if she were reading his mind. Her voice chimed off the walls. “Like the legends, they go back a long way. It’s hard to know what to take as real or just another story.” 

He grappled with her ambiguous words. “But that does imply some of them are real?” 

Their hands were still wound together. She was absurdly warm. She laughed, and he tried to make her out beside him. He could see a frizzy halo of hair. “You think shadow-dwellers are real? Those who live off animal blood?” 

He decided not to answer her question directly in the benefit of secrecy. “What else do they do?”  _ Strength and speed  _ he thought to himself. 

She surprised him again. “Have you ever met one?”

They were dancing around each other. They were both playing games. He wondered what her angle was. Did she know about vampires? “Have you?” He parrotted back.

She laughed again, squeezing his hand. “Jughead,” she said his name merrily, “soon we’re going to get to a part of this cave where I won’t be able to go any further, but you will be. Do you get it?” 

He felt like he was being tested. Her words were haunted with more meaning than they let on. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with his father in the car the last time they’d been here. He thought of Toni and Betty side by side. How opposite they looked. How opposite they were. “Lines?” He ventured, pleased by the congratulatory thumb stroke she gave his hand. “So, you’re not allowed to cross the line like they aren’t allowed to cross the line?” He frowned. “Because of an old legend that says so?” 

His eyes were adjusting a little better now. He could dimly make out Toni’s profile beside him. Her small nose and her upturned face. Like she was a bloodhound, pursuing some imaginary fox. “Maybe ‘line’ isn’t the best word for it. We call it a treaty.” 

“A treaty? This is more political than I imagined. The readers will love that,” he offered jokingly. He thought he could see Toni smile, but she didn’t laugh. He became more serious. “And who’s ‘we’? You and Sweet Pea and…” he struggled to remember the name of the guy who had leant him his clothes. He still had those. And he still had Archie’s coat. He needed to start giving people their stuff back. Although now it might be difficult to return Archie’s. But then again- Polly might be more receptive to him. “Fangs!”

Another pleased sound. “Yes. Some of the elders too, but the three of us- we’re the leaders now. Well,” she laughed proudly, “I’m the main one.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” He assured her, wondering what the hell they were talking about. Was Toni a vampire? But no- she couldn’t be. She looked so different from the rest of them.

“Turn your flashlight back on,” she insisted, once they had reached a rockless section of the cavern that seemed fairly indistinguishable from the other places they had passed. He did as she asked, his hand a little sweaty from being in hers for so long. He rubbed it onto his jeans and winced at the bright silver light. She was staring at him intensely, like she was still trying to figure him out. For the first time, he felt a small fissure of fear. Here he was deep in some nameless cave with a girl he didn’t know all that well, who had muscles that he would not be able to beat. “There are lots of old legends, and some old prophecies too. The prophecies aren’t really given any attention- crazy old men, right?” She laughed humorlessly, her large lips curling into a smug smile. “But I listen to my grandfather. He’s been right about a lot of things lately and he has this prophecy that he believes in.” 

Jughead sat down on the damp, sandy floor of the cave, setting the phone beside him, staring up at her. 

She rolled her eyes, but adjusted to the new relationship as speaker to an audience. “He used to say that someone would come along one day. And they’d be ‘one half of a love that would change everything’” she punctuated her quote with her fingers, and he nodded; enthralled. “He said this person would just...you know, completely change everything about the treaties. He said the alpha at the time would be able to know who they were- and make an executive decision to help- or hinder.” She touched her chest. “I’m making the decision to help.”

He nodded. “What are you talking about?” She grinned, tugging her grey top over her head. His eyes widened and he frantically looked away as her lacy black bra was revealed to him. “Oh my god!” He hissed, wondering if he could run back out the way he came without killing himself. “What are you doing? What’s happening?” He shrieked.

“I need you not to freak out about this, Jug,” she offered breathlessly, yanking at her leggings and kicking off her shoes at the same time. He focused on a piece of lichen on the wall. “I’m the alpha, and...and I swear I feel this about you. The others- well, Sweet Pea and Fangs will side with me, but they’re not as certain. I think it is you, though. I think you’re the one half.” she laughed, “you know, when I first met your dad, my alpha senses went crazy. I thought it was  _ him,  _ but you- you make much more sense.”

Jughead shook his head desperately. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but I really don’t think-”

Suddenly she was right in front of him, half naked and clutching his face in her warm hands. She dragged his face to meet hers. “Jug,” she whispered again, eyes wide and brown and earnest, “I really need you not to freak out about this.”

And then she pulled away from him, turned her face to the ceiling, and let out a cry of anguish that turned into a howl, as a horrible cracking filled the cave. Jughead watched in horror as in a matter of seconds, Toni was gone, and in her place was a huge- no no- gigantic, ferocious looking wolf. 

He yelped in fear; scrabbling backwards and away; heart pounding in his ears as it filled half the space. Long, glistening teeth and killer eyes and dear lord, what was going to happen to his  _ dad  _ if he died here? The wolf took a step towards him, and he closed his eyes, turning his face away to press into the moist wall. Sweat started dripping down his face and he wondered if whether the reason they’d come to such a rockless section of the cave was so that he couldn’t hit the wolf with some sort of weapon if he ever plucked up the courage to fight. 

Not that he would of course, he wouldn't stand a chance. Not against this hantankering, petrifying-

The wolf licked his neck.

He squawked, flailing inelegantly, before opening his eyes gingerly as the wolf backed off. It cocked its large had at him before flopping down onto the floor, tongue lolling out. 

Gone was the ferocious beast, and in its place; adorable giant. Jughead stared in awe, taking it in as the fear began to ebb away. “Toni?” He whispered, as his eyes flickered over the russet fur, with streaks of wild pink here and there- the same shade as her brilliant magenta hair. Those big brown eyes were hers. He got to his knees slowly, and the wolf whimpered a little. “Shit,” he breathed in amazement, “it actually is you.” He reached out a hand; cautious and slow, before touching the fur just behind her ear. It was impossibly soft. She leant into the touch, and he admired her form with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Werewolves are real, huh?” A thought dinged. “That’s why you hate my smell. Should I be wearing stronger deodorant?”

Toni huffed, baring her teeth a little, but Jughead was losing all sense of fear. 

Fascination and courage were warring with shock and disbelief. “Sorry about freaking out. You did warn me, but in fairness- you kind of  _ didn’t.  _ How about a little: ‘Hey Jug, I’m about to turn into a gigantic wolf’ instead of weird ambiguous messages,” he curls his fingers in her fur. “I thought you were gonna get naked and sacrifice me or something. But this is much better. You’re a little bit intimidating as a human.” 

Toni stood up, and Jughead did the same. Her snout rose to his chest, and he ran his hands along it. She was like no wolf he’d ever seen or imagined. She was immense in every sense of the word. 

“You kinda remind me of my first dog: Hot Dog.” He remarked fondly. 

Toni shoved him into the cave wall. 

“Okay, okay, fine,” he grinned, as she brushed up against him more like a cat than a dog. “Are you going to turn back into Toni now so we can talk about this? Because as awesome as this is- I’m really trying to keep it together.” He was fairly certain his heart had dislodged slightly.

She made a chuffing sound that he took to mean yes. He kept his eyes firmly on the wall as the sharp snapping crack sounded throughout the cave. He hoped fiercely that it wasn’t bones making that sound, before he heard her pulling her clothes back on. It was a stark contrast to turn around and see little Toni standing there. He was tempted to reach out and bop her nose but was a little afraid she’d break his finger. She was appraising him with proud eyes. “You took that as well as I hoped you would.”

Jughead could feel the beginnings of shock coursing through his system. “Well, I’m glad.” He said, before passing out.   
  
  


When he came to, he was lying on a small bed, with a rather unimpressed Sweet Pea staring down at him; holding a glass of water. Jughead reached for it, but his hand missed, and ended up colliding with the boy’s shoulder. Sweet Pea barely moved, but rolled his eyes, and caught Jughead’s hand to press the glass into it. 

His fingers tried to curl around it, but he was too groggy to get a firm grasp. Sweet Pea sensed this, thankfully, and set the water side. “You know, huh?” He asked, in a hard, defensive voice.

Jughead groaned, nodding as he sat up. His head was still spinning and he briefly remembered that he hadn’t actually eaten anything yet for the day. “I feel a bit sick.” He confessed, doubling over.

He fell off the bed and felt the bruising sting of the punch just before he made contact with the floor. He stayed down, dimly aware of the blood as it dripped from his nose. 

Okay. Okay. So Sweet Pea had just punched him. Sure, whatever. The blossoming pain was no real surprise. He’d been punched before back in Phoenix and he’d get punched again, no doubt. He was still focused primarily on the queasiness that was rising up his throat. He coughed; dry retching onto the ground- his stomach too empty. He flinched hard when he felt the warm, heavy weight of Sweet Pea’s hand on his back and floundered to get away from it. “Wait! Wait!” He yelped desperately. There were red drops on the floor from where his nose was bleeding, and he wiped at them as he scrabbled away.

“No! No, dude, sorry, fuck!” Sweet Pea was saying, just as the door opened and Toni appeared.

“What the hell?” She cried, rushing over to Jughead. She fell to her knees beside him, cradling his face onto her lap. “Sweet Pea?” She yelled, as Jughead winced at the volume of her voice. 

The broad boy floundered. “I thought he meant-”

“Get out!” She barked impatiently, and Jughead watched as Sweet Pea ran from the room. He closed his eyes and his head was lowered gently onto the soft carpet, before she was back, her fingers curling around the base of his neck as she held the water to his lips. He drank gratefully, feeling pitiful and embarrassed as she managed to sit up. She was staring at him warily as if he might pass out again.

He offered her a weak smile. “This is embarrassing, but could I get something to eat? I think I’m more worn out than I realised.”

Fangs appeared in the doorway then, holding a plate with a large, inviting sandwich on it. He smiled, handing it to Toni but not actually stepping foot into the small room. “Your stomach was rumbling. Sweet Pea’s really sorry-”

Toni shooed him away with a hand movement, before handing the food to Jughead. Her eyes were still large and worried. He started eating, both of them sitting cross-legged on the floor together. The sandwich was chicken and lettuce, crammed full of the filling and delicious in a way that only home made snacks are. Toni kept interjecting his mouthfuls by offering him back his glass of water, and he sipped at it. He was feeling much better now, and could feel the colour rising to his cheeks. Once he was done, he set the plate down and sighed. “Sorry, that was...seriously uncool. I just hadn’t eaten today and I think it was all a bit much for me. It’s been...an eventful couple of days.”  _ To say the least  _ he added mentally.

She nodded understandingly. “There was a bump on your head, too. Is that from the car accident last week?” 

“An eventful last two weeks.” He amended. 

Toni laughed, shaking her head wryly. “Sorry about Sweet Pea. He thought you were saying that wolves made you sick. He’s newly turned and a little sensitive. I think he really is sorry.”

How had she been able to hear all of that? He needed a new list for werewolf qualities. Jughead nods. “I get that. I mean- I haven’t forgiven him just yet, but I understand.” He settled his eyes over her, smiling. “A wolf, huh?” 

Toni nodded, sliding her fingers between the plush carpet between them. “I’m alpha.”

That made sense from all the interactions he’d seen. “And what about this prophecy?” 

“Like I said, my granddad said the alpha would be able to detect the half. I think it’s you. That’s why I’m allowed to tell you what we are-  _ show  _ you what we are.”

Jughead struggled to come to terms with his place in all of this. “I’m supposed to be able to change the treaty?”

Toni nodded, tipping her head as if best considering how to explain this. “Imprinting in wolves- imprinting for us, is an involuntary response to find a mate. Like a soulmate. Your wolf sees them, and just  _ knows.  _ Just feels something, and once it’s acted on- gravity changes. Nothing else really matters but them. You’re perfectly made for each other, meant to be together,” she looped her hands together, smiling softly. “It’s a beautiful thing and only we can do it.”

The thought was undeniably appealing, and as much as he appreciated the sating to his curiosity, he wasn’t sure he understood the relevance. 

It must have shown on his face, as Toni looked at him more meaningfully. “It’s around the time that I should start having these feelings that…” she gestured to him, laughing, “you just show up out of the blue, reeking of monsters and...I felt something. I don’t know if it’s imprinting or if it’s just the prophecy, but I know that it could be both. You and I could be what changes the treaty terms. I don’t want this for Riverdale anymore- these lines that part us. I want them gone, I want peace and harmony. I don’t believe in natural enemies like the elders do.” Her hand rose to cup his cheek and Jughead stared as a slow, dawning comprehension settled over him. “I want change.”

He admired her dedication and strength, but kept stumbling over the  _ you and I.  _ “You think- you think I’m your soulmate?”

She didn’t blush or look at all embarrassed; just factual. “I think so.” 

Thoughts of Betty raced through his mind, but feeling childish, he pushed them away. “Alright,” he said, in the name of the greater good. However immersed in this he now was. “How do you check for sure?”

“Same as in every story,” Toni grinned, “a kiss.”

And with that, she tugged him forward, and pressed their lips together. It was...nice, Jughead decided. She was a pretty girl and he was a boy and the contact was soft and nice. But he felt it deep inside him- kissing Toni was nothing compared to kissing Betty, and as they pulled away from each other, he was pleased to see the same understanding in her eyes. 

“Not soulmates then,” she said easily enough, “but you are the one from the prophecy.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding. “No imprinting for me today?” He asked, going for light-hearted.

She punched his arm with what he suspected was much less than her full strength. “Not today. Now, you had questions about shadow-dwellers? Ask me anything.”

…

…

…

Betty’s fist went straight through the bark of the tree when Jughead and his dad pulled up to their house. Fury and confusion jolted through her as a number of things invaded her senses. First and foremost was his scent. Her lip curled at the overwhelming scent of dog that completely covered him. As he stepped out of the truck, she could smell it on every part of his body- his neck and lips being highlights. He’d kissed someone then. It had to be this ‘Toni’ that he’d talked about. She  _ was _ a wolf. Amidst the raging jealousy, she stared at the tallow blue mark beside his nose. He’d been hit. She could smell the faintest residue of blood- but it was too far buried beneath the repulsive scent of dog to be particularly appealing. 

Was this better? Was  _ this  _ better? To not be with him because she was a monster just to let him fall into the lap of another monster? But shifters could age, she supposed. Have children. This Toni would be able to give him a future and not lust after his blood as well as his body. But was he  _ safer?  _ Wolves weren’t renowned for controlling their anger, and Betty had heard stories over what could happen to wolf mates when the wolves lost their temper. 

As he turned to face the trees she was greeted to a view of his face, and growled low and angry at the blue mark there. He  _ had _ been punched in the face. What the hell had happened over on the Southside? She was tortured by her curiosity. She yearned to soothe him, to help, but was torn up over the traces of saliva on his neck. The neck that she had once marked with her fingertips now felt as if another had staked their claim on it. 

“You’re scaring me, boy,” FP said, shaking his head as he stepped out of the car. “Fainting like that. And you weren’t gonna tell me?” 

Jughead flushed, as Betty’s jaw dropped. He’d  _ fainted  _ as well? She could make out a small scratch on his palm. How much could happen to a human being in the space of a few hours? “I knew you’d worry-”

“Damn right I’d worry,” FP snapped. He softened when Jughead winced, and walked around the car to drape a heavy arm over his shoulder as they looked out into the forest right where Betty was crouching. “You’re lucky I’m still letting you go out tonight, Jug. You know how important you are to me. If you’re fainting because you’re not getting enough to eat, you have to tell me and-”

“I just forget sometimes,” Jughead mumbled, clearly embarrassed and guilty. FP’s thoughts were tinted protectively, marred with worry. “It’s just been a little stressful lately, a lot of stuff going on. It’ll settle now, I promise.” 

FP didn’t look as easily convinced, for which Betty was grateful. “We’ll be having breakfast together from now on. Fruit, not just those chocolate things you like. Everyday.” 

The floppy-haired boy smiled wryly, nodding as he clapped his dad on the back. “Okay.” He whispered. “Sorry.” 

“I know you are,” FP sighed, ruffling his hair as they headed towards the house. “It’s becoming a bit of a struggle to keep you alive,” he teased.

Betty felt the same way. She considered going closer but one of the neighbours was doing a crossword near their window, so she was resolved to stay she was. She listened to FP and Jughead eat lunch before hearing him head upstairs. She was relieved to hear him head into the shower to get ready for Reggie to pick him up later this afternoon for the long drive out of the town. Whilst he washed the scent of dog off of him, Betty tried to control herself. A shifter or a vampire? Was that what his life had come to? Who  _ was  _ Jughead? She thought to herself, not for the first time. To attract vampires and wolves alike? To live right on the treaty like that- to be the only person exempt to her powers? 

Polly’s words repeated in her head. That it was inevitable. She toyed with the concept of inevitability for a moment. Unavoidable and inescapable were synonyms, both of which seemed to indicate something awful; of that much she was already convinced. But in the context of love- was fate not the more prominent word? Fate didn’t seem so bad. 

Unless of course it meant that Jughead would meet his face, in which case Betty already knew she would be making a hasty trip to Italy. It was frightening to think that an eternity of existence would be ended by this boy with midnight hair and forest eyes, who probably wouldn’t be able to walk in a straight line without falling over. But that didn’t make it any less true.

She yearned for Jason. He would be able to tell her what Jughead felt for Toni, maybe even whether he knew about wolves or not. Something struck her about the entire ordeal, and that was her trust in the human boy. She’d never worried, even for a moment, that he’d tell someone what he had discovered. It wasn’t in his character, and she admired that honesty and sincerity greatly. 

Reggie’s mind was a hub of excited activity as he pulled onto the road, and Betty was grateful that the general mental silence of the Jones house would soon be broken.  _ I hope that mom stays out late tonight- shit, did I put the condoms in my night stand? Will we need the lube again? Josie didn’t reply to my last text- she’s probably with Mel though. I wonder if Jug’s ready- I wonder what he’s wearing- am I dressed alright?  _ He glanced down at his clothes, but the white tee and white shirt overlay accentuated his muscles. He looked good. 

He was relieved to see FP’s truck in the drive, knowing they were back, and Betty could hear Jughead bidding his dad goodbye as he heard the rev of Reggie’s motor. Arousal flooded her at the sight of Jughead, just as Reggie thought  _ damn kid you look good- what the hell-  _ “What’s happened to your face?” Reggie exclaimed, derailed from his assessment of Jughead’s clothes. 

The leaner boy snorted. “I fainted down at Southside and landed on my face.” His heartbeat tripped on the lie, but Reggie didn’t detect it. “It was highly embarrassing and I’d rather we didn’t talk about it, thank you.” He headed for Reggie’s jeep. “You look nice.”

“I can’t be away from you for a few hours without you trying to tempt fate,” Reggie teased, and Betty half smiled as she realised this sentiment was being shared around all those who were close to the boy. “You look smokin’ too. Trying to impress Mel after all, huh?” 

Though her view of Jughead was now obscured, Betty had had ample time to see him in his outfit. She’d never seen him purposely dress to impress, unless she counted his nice pyjamas for their impromptu kiss (she did actually), but definitely not for a formal occasion. He wore a simple, black collared shirt, with the top few buttons undone, glimpsing a tempting expanse of neck and the smooth, jutting bones of his collar. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he smelt very faintly of cologne. His jeans were slightly tighter than the ones he usual wore, and though it was casual and not as thought out as Reggie’s, he did look  _ good  _ in a very current way. If the girls at school thought he was attractive in his usual unusual attire at school, then they would surely rejoice at the sight of him in the mainstream. 

As usual, his hair was a floppy mess, thick strands flying into his forehead in every which way. He never did beyond combing it from what she could tell, but it was for good reason. His hair wouldn’t be controlled. No matter how many times he swiped his hands through it or played with the ends absentmindedly, it always flopped back into however it was comfortable. Reggie backed out of the drive, and Betty sprinted parallel through the forest, keeping pace easily. “Not trying to impress Mel, who I’ve never even met,” Jughead grinned, thrumming his fingers against the dashboard to the song on the radio. Betty craned to hear it over the rush of the wind, the roar of the motor and the tyres on the road.

_ I ain’t ever going back to thinking straight. Twice! Twice it brought me down but it’s the last time…  _ crooned an unfamiliar voice. She made a mental note to look it up once she got home and hoped it would give her some more insight into how this enigma of a human worked. “Oh yeah? You see Toni today? Did you faint cuz of hot she got you?” 

Jughead snorted delicately. “Oh yeah, that’s exactly what happened.” He hummed thoughtfully. “We did kiss, though.”

Betty sliced a rock in half with her foot. Reggie cheered, banging the steering wheel triumphantly. “My man! How was it?” 

“Awkward and uncomfortable,” Jughead informed him cheerily, much to Betty’s relief and awe. “We’ve resolved to be friends. She’s cool, I really like her. I might take her to Winter Formal- as friends.” 

Reggie rolled his eyes. “In your dreams maybe. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a Southsider come to a Northside event.”

Jughead’s heart blipped and he shuffled in his seat. “Maybe not. Maybe I’ll stay home with my dad.”

Ah. He did know what Toni was then. How quickly had he figured it out? The same time as when he’d known what Betty was? How had he figured it out? Blind luck? Curiosity? Was he just perceptive? “It’ll suck without you. Maybe you could bring Mel?”

“Reg…”

“Only if tonight goes well!” Reggie assured him, whilst Betty tried to relax. A mistaken kiss between friends, her anger could stop plaguing her surely except- would it ever, really? Knowing that if she stayed to the route she had chosen, some day, one day, he  _ would  _ say yes to someone? He would kiss someone and it would feel right and he’d have the marriage and child Betty wanted for him- but it would be with someone else. 

How would she cope? Could she cope? 

The realisation that she didn’t  _ want  _ to be able to cope with it distracted her for the remainder of their drive. They talked about typical teenage boy things and eventually settled on an increasingly bizarre series of hypothetical situations towards one another. Their laughter made her feel warm inside, and she liked the way Jughead snickered into his hands almost as if trying to hide how funny he thought some of Reggie’s more cheeky jokes were.

When they reached their destination, it was seven pm and the sun had now fully set. Betty eased out of the shelter and watched as Reggie parked and the two of them bristled in the cold air. There was a rather bashful introduction as they met Josie and Melody who were waiting outside one of the bars. They’d been shopping and clutched the full bags in their hands. 

Betty watched from four simultaneous vantage points as Jughead and Melody were introduced properly: Reggie’s eyes, Josie’s eyes, and Melody’s eyes, as well as her own view from across the street. Melody was definitely pretty, accentuated by her fierce makeup decisions and the long, sweeping black lines she’d painted across her eyes and her large red lips. However, Jughead’s pupils didn’t increase at all, and he showed no physical sign of attraction, a detail that Betty was surprised to notice that Melody picked up on. 

_ He doesn’t think I’m hot. And I definitely look hot. Shit. He must really like Betty. This is going to be so awkward!  _ Melody thought worriedly, and Betty decided she didn’t dislike her at all. She relaxed, watching the interaction with more amusement than worry. 

“Hey,” Jughead offered, after a beat of silence, “how about me and Mel take the shopping back to the car, Reggie? We’ll meet you guys inside?” 

_ Maybe he does like her  _ Reggie thought hopefully, nodding as he slid his arm around Josie’s waist. Josie was much too distracted by the sight of what Reggie was wearing to be too invested in the conversation, and offered them a half-hearted wave over her shoulder. Jughead smiled at Melody, apologetic and awkward, as he took half of the bags and they walked down the dark street. A few sporadic street lights cast golden spots here and there, the light diffusing into the air between the gaps. 

“I’m sorry if this is awkward,” he offered, and Melody half grinned. 

_ He’s not a bad guy. It’s a shame.  _ “That’s fine, Josie likes to think she’s fixing everything when really she can just be a little bit too enthusiastic.” She bit her lip.  _ Should I ask? Is it too far?  _ “Betty, huh?”  _ Shit. Maybe too far. _

Betty watched through Melody’s eyes as Jughead stiffened a little, before he ducked his head. “Is it that obvious?”

The blonde vampire gasped slightly, eyes wide and hopeful. Though she’d heard him say it before, she wondered whether it would ever get old.  _ Yes  _ Melody thought smugly, but shook her head. “Not really. I just- you guys must have had something.” 

“You’d think,” Jughead offered wryly, shaking his head. “But not really. I think I just jumped the gun.”

_ How hot does she think she is that she could reject  _ _ this?  _ _ He’s so fine.  _ “It’ll work out. But for now, just have a good night. Try to get your mind off it.” 

“That’s what everyone’s been telling me to do,” Jughead murmured as they reached the car, loading the stuff into the trunk. “But it’s hard. All anyone seems to think about these days is dating and I thought I was the exception but it turns out- I’m just as obsessed too.” He closed his eyes, and Melody and Betty sighed in unison at how the night silhouetted his nose and lashes.  _ If I had eyelashes like that maybe I wouldn’t need mascara  _ Melody thought bemusedly. “It’s like I can’t see anyone else but her sometimes, and I just wish I could say sorry but she won’t even- she won’t even look at me.” He turned to the ground, shame-faced, and Betty took an inadvertent step forward as if to comfort him. 

_ Damn. Betty is one lucky, freaky girl. If she took a break from sleeping with her brothers...  _ “It’ll get better,” Melody assured him, briefly thinking of a summer fling she’d had a few months prior. “I promise. Girls are weird sometimes. I apologise on our behalf.”

Jughead nudged her a little as they headed back to the nightclub. “Guys are weird too. I apologise on our behalf.” 

_ Josie was right about him. He’s a good guy.  _ “Come on then,” she sighed happily, linking their arms and tugging him along. “Let’s go have a good time.” 

Had humans always been as nice as they seemed to be around Jughead? Or did he just attract the best aspects of humanity? She wasn’t sure, but she went into a bar nearby to sit in a booth in the corner. It was difficult to distinguish Jughead’s scent through the writhing masses of bodies in the nightclub a few blocks away, and though she could identify his heartbeat, it didn’t give her enough information. Reggie, Josie and Melody’s thoughts weren’t much help either, as they became infused with alcohol. Betty was content to let her mind drift for an hour. 

He liked her. Clearly more than she’d originally thought. He saw no other girl bar him and she was pleased to note they had this in common. Not that Betty had ever found any male particularly attractive before he came along. He wished he could talk to her. He wanted to apologise. He wanted her to look at him. She would have blushed at how similarly his needs mirrored her own. A guy in his early twenties on the other side of the bar kept darting rapid, nervous glances at her. His thoughts remained relatively tame however, so she quietly ripped a part of the metal out from under the table and wound it around her finger, making sure to glint it obviously in his direction. 

He noticed it immediately, and moped over his drink. 

_ Shiiitttt I hope Jug’s s’okay  _ Reggie thought blearily, and Betty sat up straighter, earning a look from a drunk patron slumped over his stool. She scanned for the heartbeats in the club and panic struck when she realised that Jughead was no longer one of them. She stood up, rushing for the door as fast as human pace would allow. Reggie’s memories were blurry, but were the best she had as Melody and Josie were too busy chanting along to the song. She saw Jughead, fuzzy and smiling, clapping Reggie’ shoulder and saying  _ I’m just gonna get some air. _

He hadn’t been comfortable in the environment. She’s not surprised as she tries to pick up his scent. He doesn’t enjoy events like that. A light drizzle has soaked up the night, and the breeze has distorted him here and there. She rushes down a path; frantic. Where would he go? Does he have his phone on him-

A car screeches down the street and comes to a dead halt beside her. She stares wide eyed at Jason. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, racing around to the passenger side. He starts driving immediately. Thankfully the roads are mostly clear.

_ I don’t know. Polly said you needed me but she wasn’t sure why yet.  _ Jason was shirtless and his pants hung low on his hips. Ah. He and Polly had been- she saw the interaction and Polly’s frantic command as she all but shoved him into the car as it played through Jason’s memories. 

“Jughead’s gone.” She whispered. If Polly had seen something and sent Jason- what was going to happen- “We have to find him.”

_ Keep your ears peeled then  _ he offered calmly. 

Betty nodded, closing her eyes as Jason hightailed it through various streets around the local area. She scanned the minds of everyone within reach, searching for a trace of her human, and was about to jerk out of one man’s thoughts, when he turned slightly to see Jughead backing away from them. 

She growled low in her throat, bearing her teeth as Jason waited expectantly. But- she needed more information. Jughead was staring at them; out of breath. He’d been running. He’d been running and- there were more of them. More minds. More perspectives. A gang, then. Mugging, mainly, they just wanted his money- they thought he was a rich kid. He was trapped between them. One of them had less than savoury thoughts- not just a mugging then. He was thinking about the steel knife he had tucked into his pocket that the others didn’t know about. 

Betty punched the dashboard and it dented slightly. “I don’t know where the fuck they are!” She snarled in dismay. She could feel Jason projecting his calm throughout the car but fought against it. 

Suddenly, one of the guys- Fred- turned to look warily across the street. He was having doubts. His doubts were enough for her to see the flash of a street sign. “4th street,” she gasped, tempted to just get out and run. Jason sped there immediately. His mind was a concise, eloquent whir. Betty understood then, why Polly had sent him instead of coming herself. Jason was a soldier. He was rational in the face of fear. Calm when there might be panic. She’d never been more grateful for him. 

She caught Jughead’s scent, his heart was thumping rapidly in fear but he’d realised there was nowhere else to go. The leader was eyeing him up, hoping he’d fight, and to Betty’s agony Jughead did look like he was rearing up to fight them. Clenching his fists and standing as tall as he could even though his legs were trembling. 

Jason whired the car down an alley; wing mirror bashing into one of the guys who yelped in pain as Betty flew out of the vehicle, nearly tearing off the door in the process. 

Jonathan, the leader, turned to her in surprise as a few of the others scattered in feared awe.  _ A little bitch, huh? She’d look nice if she were- _

Betty growled, flashing too many teeth and her eyes nearly black in the light. His thoughts became fearful, and he looked between her and Jason behind her. Betty was nearly shaking with her anger, as she flew towards him; smashing him hard into the wall. He made a small choking noise as she used her grasp on his throat to lift him up into the air. He scrabbled uselessly against her hands as she seethed at him with content.  _ What the fuck is she? Jesus-shit-  _ he thought in a jumble. Kill him now? Or make it slow and painful?

_ Betty  _ Jason thought more calmly.  _ He loves you.  _

“What?” She whispered, turning to look at Jason, before following his gaze to Jughead. He was standing there, panting, staring at her. She saw it through Jason’s mind- love, raw and brilliant and recognised. 

He was watching her cut off a man’s airway as she held him above the ground, and he had realised he loved her. What was wrong with him? She choked on her emotions, unsure what to do as Jonathon wheezed uselessly.  _ Go to him. I’ll take care of the mess. I won’t spill any blood. Plenty of ways to kill a human without spilling blood  _ Jason thought, his mind replaying some of his war memories. 

The blonde half nodded, and yet couldn’t move away. Having Jason kill him wasn’t enough- it wasn’t enough,  _ she  _ wanted to hurt him. Torture him slowly for ever even  _ looking  _ at Jughead and-

“Betty,” Jughead whispered, voice shaky. Her eyes flashed to his. They were wide and trusting. He was waiting for her. 

That had her releasing her grip. Jonathan fell to the ground in a heap, and she dimly heard Jason collecting him. But her focus was on Jughead. She pulled him into her and hugged him- mindful of every inch where they touched, not to press too hard or be too strong. Having him in her arms was bliss. She could deny this no longer, she knew. She loved him and he loved her and eternity didn’t feel like long enough when they embraced. He hugged her without the same reserve; burying his face in her hair, burning hot and smelling  _ divine.  _ “Juggie,” she cradled the back of his head as gently as she could, feeling him shiver against the cold of her. She pulled back reluctantly, staring up at him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, looking reluctant to have parted from her. “I’m fine,” he said automatically, and she swallowed. He was here. He was with her. He was safe. Dimly, she could hear Jason’s thoughts as he poured water over Jonathon’s mouth. 

But Jughead wasn’t fine. He needed warm food and comfort. He would be going into shock soon, surely? He’d already fainted today. “Get in the car,” she ordered, glancing around to make sure there was no evidence anywhere. Jughead did what she asked obediently, getting into the passenger side and shutting the door. Betty joined him, flipping on the heater and pulling out of the alleyway. Soon, they were on the road. She took the longer route back to where Jughead’s friends would mostly likely be- needing an opportunity to calm down. His scent was delicious here, and she hadn’t hunted for a while, but hurting him was the last thing on her mind. 

Her mind was on the other men who had been there. Who had wanted to rough him up. She felt her knuckles harden. She wanted to hurt them. 

“Oh my god!” Jughead shrieked, startling her, and she turned to see him recoiled from the window. “You’re going so fast!” And his heart was jackhammering in fear. 

Betty spat out a laugh. Did he think he was in any danger from this? “My reflexes are impeccable.” She managed, slowing the car so his heart rate would normalise. But his reaction had been a distraction from her murderous thoughts. From her desire to put Jughead in the driver seat and go and hunt down those muggers herself. Fred would probably be disappointed, but it was nothing he wouldn’t forgive her for. She knew their minds now, it wouldn’t be too difficult to track them down and- no. Jughead. Jughead was her distraction. “Could you just- just talk, please?” She demanded tersely. 

He blinked at her. “Talk?”

“Just- do it.” She managed through gritted teeth.

He nodded, hair flopping. His breath smelt very faintly of alcohol, though not enough, presumably, to dull what had happened this evening. “Um- I might have to try and threaten Dilton Doiley?”

Yes. That’s exactly what she needed. Only Jughead could surprise her with something as out of the blue as that. “Why?” She pressed when he didn’t offer up more on his own. 

“Oh- well, I told him I planned to ask Ethel to Winter Formal, but that was only a ploy to get  _ him  _ to ask her, but he still hasn’t and now I’m wondering whether I actually have to go. I figure if I try to force him to do it, I’ll be off the hook.” 

The thought of Jughead intimidating anyone, even Dilton Doiley, was amusing. Betty half smiled. “More.” She demanded.

He struggled for a moment. “Uh- I was thinking, there’s no colour you don’t look good in?”

She was too stunned to reply. 

He took her silence as a cue to go on. “I mean- I’ve seen you in so many, but even now-” he gestured to her clothes and she glanced down at them in surprise. It was a white chiffon skirt and blouse. “Even in white, I just- I don’t think there’s any colour you couldn’t pull off. I keep trying to think of just really hideous clashes but in my head, and probably reality, they’d still look really good.” 

Her utter delight at his easy compliments was easing her anger. Was he usually this forthcoming with commendations? He was nice yes, but this outright? She relaxed her shoulders with some effort, and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, “you look- good too.”  _ Good?  _ He was beautiful, a vision, and she’d had over a century to perfect her eloquence and the best she’d come up with was ‘good’?

His blush flooded the car with his enticing fragrance, and he shifted somewhat in the seat beside her. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He was thinking about something though. He opened his mouth to ask it, before thinking back on it, and turned to look out at the dark forestry. 

It was intensely frustrating. “What were you going to say?” She nearly begged, and he blushed again. 

“I was just-” he cleared his throat, “I was wondering how you knew where to find me?”

Ah. Crap. A very human request to sate some curiosity. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what she was, and he loved her anyway, but letting him know she’d been essentially stalking him seemed like a real line to cross. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said in a rush, noticing her silence. His heartbeat had slowed considerably, and he was curled towards the warmth blasting out through the vents and the under seat heating. He seemed like a cat beside the fireplace. Perhaps they needed to listen to some music- she reached her hand out at the same moment his did, and they’re fingers bumped. She hastily pulled hers back and his heart blipped. “Sorry,” he muttered, turning on the radio. She watched intrigued as he quickly filtered through the channels; cutting off the local news and some types of music before settling on what sounded like the soundtrack to a movie. “Do I need to keep talking?” 

She smiled reflexively, breathing airly through her nose as the smell of him tortured her throat. He was worried about  _ her.  _ “No, it’s okay. I’m feeling better now.” 

“Why did I need to do that?”

“To calm me down.” She answered honestly, swallowing when he angled his entire body towards her. He brought one knee up onto the seat, resting his temple against the headrest. The seat belt pressed against the long line of his collar.

She felt warm under his scrutiny. “To stop from going back and doing something to those guys?” He guessed perceptively. 

Betty looked at the road ahead. She could dimly make out Reggie’s thoughts now, fuzzy but worried about his friend. ‘Doing something’? No. What was the plan now? Now that they both loved each other? He didn’t know that she loved him- nor did he know that she knew he loved her. Honesty came into her mind, suspiciously sounding like Fred’s voice, and she nodded. “To stop from killing them.” She said, “brutally.” 

She waited for the fear, for the screaming and the desperation to get out of the car, but none of that came. He made a small, curious sound from the back of his throat. “I really am sorry about that kiss, Betty, I- I just had it wrong.” He looked down at the gearbox, and her heart went out to him. 

“You didn’t have it wrong,” she confessed gently, watching as his eyes flickered up to meet hers. Hope was written there. She was getting a little better at reading him. 

“I didn’t?” He whispered, one side of his mouth moving up in a little half-smile she’d so often seen directed to other people, but now it was hers. “That’s good.” He laughed, and she was dazzled by his palpable relief. He wasn’t normal at all. He’d nearly been mugged. “Life isn’t so evil after all,” he said cheerily. His knee was bouncing up and down in what she could only decipher as excitement. 

She frowned at him. “You know what I am, right?” She asked doubtfully. “How are you so happy about this?” 

“Love is love,” he shrugged, and she staggered mentally at his easy use of the word, “doesn’t matter what it looks like. We learnt that in RE in like- kindergarten.” He really was happy about this. She supposed, if she allowed herself out of her despairing mindset, she could see the appeal. Two people in a car that loved each other. It was simple in its romance. A thought seemed to occur to him that sobered his merriment slightly. “Are you going to stop talking to me on Monday? Will I need to keep not saying anything?” 

Her lips twisted amusedly. That’s what he was worried about. Maybe he didn’t know the actual amount of danger he was in. “I’m not sure I could stop talking to you.” She confessed. “It didn’t work out so well last time.” She gestured to where they were. She was slowing the car now. Reggie and Josie were outside the club, looking for their friend. 

“Okay, good,” he said happily, content with her answer. 

She parked and turned to look at him in awe. “You know that I might accidentally kill you, right? We drink  _ blood  _ and just because we make the choice to drink animals doesn’t mean you’re safe. Your blood especially has…” she swallowed. Talking about it made it worse. “Has a very strong pull to me. I could kill you by accident, or god forbid you ever scraped your knee- I could  _ destroy  _ you.” 

He seemed to consider this seriously for a few seconds. “Haven’t yet,” he pointed out dutifully. “I can only say you’ve saved my life twice. Life two, death zero.” He waggled his fingers to emphasise the point.

She laughed at his ludicrousness. 

_ Holy shit! That’s Jug and Betty!  _ Reggie thought, and she popped open the locks. “Your friends have seen us,” she informed him, and Jughead seemed to notice for the first time that they’d stopped. He looked out of the window in surprise, before spotting Reggie and Josie for himself. 

“What’s going to happen now?” He asked, looking to her for his cue.

She contemplated it for a moment. “I don’t really feel like I should be away from you- if only for the well being of those men.”

Jughead seemed thrilled at her answer and she laughed in astounded exasperation. 

…

…

…

 

Jughead rolled his eyes at Reggie’s knowing look.

“My man!” Reggie cried in what he probably thought was a subtle whisper. “You  _ had  _ to have known!” His voice was thick with alcohol, and Jughead snorted. He turned to Josie instead, who seemed relatively more coherent. 

She looked at him knowingly. “Melody’s hooked up with someone,” she informed him, slurring only a little. He frowned. 

“Wait- if we were all drinking, who was supposed to drive home?” He asked quizzically. 

Reggie and Josie stared at him blankly.

“I’ll drive you home,” came a new voice, and Jughead spun around; stumbling to see Jason now beside Betty. He looked perfectly put together, and was now wearing a shirt. Jughead tried not to wonder whether it was the same one as the guy who’d been about to mug him. He’d gotten here the same time as them without a car- speed was definitely a good theory to have on his list. The red head and Betty were standing shoulder to shoulder, looking perfectly at ease in the cold air. Reggie and Josie didn’t notice anything about his sudden appearance. Instead, Reggie shuffled the keys over. The two of them suddenly looked incredibly sleepy, and Jughead watched as Jason began to lead the way. 

He touched Reggie’s shoulder, a little worriedly. “Text me when you get home, Reggie. Please?” He insisted, trying to break through his friend’s drunken haze. 

Reggie laughed as if he were hilarious, and tugged him in for an enthusiastic hug. Jughead bit his bottom lip in concern, before Reggie started pulling off his coat. “Shit bro you’re freezin’! Here-” he shoved his fleecy coat towards him. Jughead nodded, one hand out to steady him.

He turned to see Jason’s amused eyes staring at him. “He’s perfectly safe with me.” Jason purred in a low voice. 

Jughead shot him a skeptical look, before Betty’s hand touched his shoulder. “They’ll be fine,” she said earnestly, and he relaxed. Jason; he didn’t know. But Betty, he trusted. Besides, he was fairly certain he’d agree to anything if she kept touching him. It was still difficult to believe. She liked him. She really liked him and-

Well. He was besotted. She’d been a thing of fierce beauty and strength; his protector and defender. A furious, gorgeous being beyond anything anyone else in the world could ever offer. Was he too young to fall in love? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. For the first time in his life he was interested in a girl, and wonder of wonders- she liked him back. “Okay,” he agreed easily. He watched as the three of them disappeared down into the darkness, before turning to Betty with a smile. “So, what’s the plan?” 

She was eyeing him like there was something wrong. “We need to get you something to eat.” 

He nodded. “Sounds good.” He fell into step beside her as they wandered down the streets. Well, he was wandering, Betty seemed to know exactly where she was going. What a strange day it had been. Wolves and muggings and being saved by a vampire. He grinned to himself. The world was more remarkable than he’d let himself imagine. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his system as he thought about the guys who had approached him. The leader was probably dead now. It was an odd thought. 

They soon approached a diner, and he followed Betty inside. She guided him to a booth near the back- closest to the heater- he noted, and slid in opposite him. He watched her; her snow white skin and blonde hair, the rose pinkness of her lips and longed to touch her again. She’d taken his apology well, he thought. As if he hadn’t needed to be sorry. It enhanced his theory that maybe vampires couldn’t kiss humans. She pushed the menu towards him, jostling him out of this thoughts. “Choose something.” 

“I’m not really that hungry-” 

“Jughead.” She said warningly, and he sighed, resting back in his seat. As his body sagged against the plush leather he realised he was rather exhausted, and leaned in a little further, letting out a deep breath. The menu was varied, and when he focused on the food, he realised he was actually rather peckish.

“Are you guys ready to order?” Came a cheerful voice, and Jughead looked up to see a handsome waiter holding a pen and paper. He had to be about twenty-five, and had eyes only for Betty. Jughead scowled to himself. He was unfairly handsome, with a well-groomed beard and good sized muscles. Jughead couldn’t even grow a beard.

“Jughead?” Betty asked again, and he cleared his throat.

“Oh uh- maybe a burger and some fries?”

“A burger and some fries.” Betty said with a brief smile to the waiter. Did she think the server was attractive? No doubt she did. She had eyes after all. “And two chocolate milkshakes- all the toppings.” 

Jughead frowned. Did vampires like chocolate milkshake?

Betty glared up at the waiter when he didn’t immediately leave, and Jughead resisted the urge to grin at the ire in her eyes. “That’s all.” She snapped.

The waiter seemed confused, before heading off and Jughead scoffed. Betty couldn’t find  _ him _ more attractive than that guy- but her eyes were focused on his face. He blossomed a little under her gaze. He’d missed her more than he’d thought and they’d only not been speaking for about a week. The cut of her blouse had become slightly dislodged during the altercation with the men and it now drew attention to her chest. He tried not to look, instead focusing on the colour of her eyes today. They were darker than their usual gold. Did that mean she hadn’t fed recently? 

“You should put on that jacket,” she insisted, and he resisted the urge to laugh. She sounded like his dad. 

There was a hand to be played here. “I will. If you’ll answer some questions.” 

Her lips toyed with the idea of a smile, but it was her eyes that held all the warmth. “Fine. But we’ll take turns. How about that?”

He blinked in surprise. “What could you possibly want to know?” 

Her stare was that of blatant shock, so he figured that perhaps they were in similar boats. How strange to find that they were thinking the same way about each other. They both liked each other, and they were both curious. He was pleased. 

“Sure. Okay. Was the last time you ate a while ago?” 

She appraised him with fond eyes. “Very clever,” she murmured. “Yes. The last time I  _ ate  _ was on Monday. Coat.” He pulled it on, sighing at the warmth of it. “How did you figure that out?” 

He blushed. “Your eyes. They’re always darker when you seem to have the most trouble. I figure it’s like avoiding cake if you’re stuffed with carrots.” 

She arched an eyebrow. “And you’re the cake in this scenario? You’re a little more tempting than that. But I’ll accept the analogy. My turn?” 

He nodded, wondering what on earth she’d think to ask. “Do you know about any other creatures?”

He’d never thought he would be able to deny her an answer, but thinking of Toni and the faith she’d entrusted in him- in the future of the prophecy and not to mention the fact it wasn’t  _ his  _ secret to tell. He winced. “Sorry,” he muttered, raking his hand through his hair. “I can’t answer that one.” 

She pursed her lips at him. “You agreed. You didn’t have any exceptions.” She pointed out. He reached out to pluck a sugar packet from the stand and fiddled with it between his fingers. How could she possibly know? And yet it seemed like she knew far too many things she shouldn’t have been able to know. She leaned forward, linking her fingers under her chin and resting her pretty face on it. 

He could feel his heart stutter at her effortless beauty, and coherent thought left his brain. 

She frowned, eyes flickering to his chest as if she could hear his heartbeat. Shit. Another thing to add to the list. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he managed in a tight voice, swallowing hard. Best not to admit that she could render him speechless with merely a look. Their milkshakes were brought over then, a napkin folded neatly underneath Betty’s. The waiter was trying to leave his number, no doubt. Betty, as if she hadn’t seen though she must have, used the napkin to wipe the condensation off her glass. He dragged his own towards him, forgoing the straw in order to bring the creamy goodness to his lips. He drank until it was drained, surprised at his thirst and only a little bit embarrassed by his lack of manners. Betty wordlessly pushed hers towards him, and took his empty one for her own. “Thanks,” he muttered shyly, using the straw this time. He felt a small pinch of pain for the brain freeze, but powered through it. “Ask any other question. I’ll answer it. I promise.”

“I think I should get two,” she murmured coyly, and he tipped his head in fond acquiescence. He liked a girl who knew how to bargain. “What was wrong with Melody? I understand Ethel, and to some extent Nancy- because you knew that Chuck liked her. But Melody seemed nice. And what about Toni?” 

He tried not to let his surprise show on his face. There was only one way she could know about all those people. Super hearing or...or something else. Mind reader made a lot more sense, and he was suddenly worried she could hear how much he longed for her. It would be enough to put anyone off. “Well, I…” he shook his head, looking down at the table. “You know, I probably would have said yes to Nancy or Toni, not that Toni ever asked- why they’d want to go anywhere with me I don’t know but…” he looked at her expectantly. “Someone else kinda had my eye.” 

The answer seemed to pain her. Had she wanted him to say yes to one of those girls? “This is a-”

“If you say mistake,” Jughead stopped her abruptly. “I don’t know what I’ll do, but you shouldn’t test me. This isn’t a mistake.”

“You don’t know the full extent-”

“I don’t  _ care  _ about the full extent.” He murmured resolutely. She wasn’t getting rid of him this time. “Whatever you are, whatever you do, whatever you think is so awful about yourself- I’m sorry I haven’t been sent running yet.” A thought occurred to him. Even if she did tell him not to talk to her anymore, he wasn’t sure he’d listen. He could be stubborn when he wanted to be, and now that he knew she liked him too, it was just some distorted self view that kept her from him, he was refusing to be pushed away. “You could transform into a dragon with nine heads and I’d still be here.” 

She reached one of her hands across the table very slowly. He pushed his forward too, so they rested against one anothers. Her hand was so pale it made his whiteness look like a tan, and the cold etched into his skin from hers. He didn’t pull away, instead, took hold of her thumb gently. “One wrong move,” she whispered, “and you’d be-”

“I have more faith in you than that.” 

Betty pulled her hand back slowly, looking up as the food was set down in front of him. He wanted to reach out for her again, but the plates acted as a barrier. After a stern look from her, he reached out for the burger, and groaned in pleasure at the taste. It was just what he needed. He chewed slowly, watching her. “I’m not infallible.” She said with meaning. “I’ve made mistakes before. A lot of them.” 

Jughead went for nonchalant. “Who hasn’t?” 

She hummed in mild amusement. “Maybe you just have a death wish.” She mused.

He took another large bite. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve got you here to protect me. Now, do you have a question or is it my go again? I’ve only got about a billion or so.”

Betty nudged his fries towards him with a small smile. “We have time.” She whispered warmly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment! 
> 
> MWAH MWAH x
> 
>  
> 
> PS Wanna check out an amazing aesthetic for this chapter? Find it [here](http://typing123.tumblr.com/post/177656345325/next-chapter-of-the-bughead-twilight-au-the-soft) at my tumblr page with lots of other fun stuff. It features an amazing 'nerd' paper airplane thanks to HufflepuffBetty. Whilst you're there, maybe give me a follow for updates about fics, more aesthetics and snippets or just to say hi ;)


	12. The Rose Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead practise kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this pure bughead chapter lovelies! Beta-ed by the lovely HufflepuffBetty

“And just  _ how  _ good is your sense of hearing?” Jughead asked. Betty rolled her eyes. Her human was tired, that much she could see. Each blink was slightly longer than the one that preceded it, as if his eyes were trying to stay closed even though he forced them open. He was completely curled up on the passenger seat, continuing to ask her questions even though they’d been parked outside his house for twenty minutes now. Not that she particularly wanted their night together to end. She could now breathe in as deeply as she liked without too much worry. She’d never been in such close confines with him for so long, but that tortuous burn was now a small ache. Like the heat of a fireplace rather than the fury of a forest fire. Their questions game had continued long past the diner, and she’d learnt that he had in fact been hit by someone on the Southside- by accident, he claimed truthfully. She’d learnt things that he’d said seemed trivial. 

Betty didn’t think so. Knowing that his favourite colour was lavender- Jellybean’s favourite, that he wanted to be a novelist, that he didn’t have a favourite band or a favourite song because it changed nearly every day. Meanwhile, she’d divulged mostly what seemed to be confirmations of his theories. He was incredibly smart, not that it surprised her. Vampires strength, speed and general immortality had all been confirmed to him and instead of being afraid, he’d been pleased to know it about her. As if he’d been waiting. 

“It’s very good,” she said with a smile. “I can hear your heartbeat from a few blocks away.” He let out a breath of amazement, and Betty cocked her head as FP’s mind throbbed in discovery. Ah. He’d seen the car through the window in the upstairs hallway. She didn’t know quite what he was thinking, but his thoughts were snippy and short. Heavily punctuated. He was annoyed she was here. “Juggie, your dad’s just seen us. He’s not happy.” 

Jughead turned to glance up at the house, but didn’t appear to have seen anything. “So? We can stay out here talking can’t we?”

Her heart warmed. “You’re tired,” she said gently, taking a deep inhale of his fragrant scent. “You should get some sleep-”

“No.” He insisted, heartbeat increasing as if the thought of her leaving was genuinely distressing to him. “We’re finally talking and how do I know that if you leave you won’t have another epiphany where you decide we’re better off not knowing each other?” 

It was a fair point, she could concede. Though she doubted she’d be strong enough to stay away from him now she knew what it was like to be in his company for so long. “Alright, how about a compromise? I’ll walk you to the door, explain to your dad what happened, pretend to leave and then meet you in your bedroom.” 

He blinked, staring at her in surprise. “How?” 

She was pleased by his lack of imagination. Had he never snuck someone into his house before? “Agility,” she grinned. “I’ll be there. Ready?” She could hear FP’s footsteps as he paced the living room near the front door. He’d assumed they’d just arrived and was waiting. Jughead nodded, moving more sluggishly out of the car behind her, stretching his legs as they headed up the steps. He tripped over his ankle and she lurched out an arm to steady him. He gripped it gratefully, and she let out a small gasp of exasperation. “You really are trying to make my role as protector incredibly difficult, aren’t you?”

He laughed, looking only mildly apologetic for giving her dead heart a small jolt, and she gestured to the door. He pushed it open, and FP greeted them immediately. “Hey dad,” he managed, a little awkwardly. “You uh...remember Betty?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, and Betty winced internally as she remembered the last time FP and Jughead had discussed her. There had been a lot of tears. 

“I remember.” FP said harshly, crossing his fingers and focusing his attention on Jughead. “You didn’t answer my texts.” 

“Oh, I-”

“Actually, Mr Jones,” Betty cut in, shooting Jughead a warning glance. “My brother and I were out tonight, and we saw Juggie getting harassed by a few of these guys.” As predicted, FP’s anger dissipated and worry and concern filled him. He whirled towards Jughead; who was flushing. 

“They just wanted my wallet, dad. Seriously, it was nothing. B- Jason arrived and scared them off.” 

FP didn’t know what to do, his thoughts seemed to be clashing with one another. On the one hand, his dislike for Betty, but then his gratitude for her existence. He seemed to decide on relief that his son was okay, and he pulled his son in towards him. He hugged Jughead tightly, and Betty looked away politely as Jughead let out a small, sorry sound. “Boy.” FP managed, swallowing hard as he pulled away. “You keep putting me through the wringer.” 

Jughead stared at his shoes, shoulders hunched in. “I just have bad luck. Well, not so bad. Since Betty was there.”

FP nodded, remembering his manners, and he turned to her a little stiffly. “Thank you, Betty, and your brother. Make sure he knows how thankful I am.” Sourness still tainted a few of his thoughts, and she could hear the faintest mumblings of tears in his memories. He was remembering his son crying. 

“I will, Mr Jones. I’m just happy Jughead’s home safe.” She crossed her arms, sad at the loss of approval from the man she rather liked. Hopefully she’d be able to re-earn it someday. 

“Me too. And on that note, Jug, you’re grounded.”

Jughead blinked in confusion, though he was too tired to have a proper reaction. “Huh?” 

“Grounded. You’re grounded. No more going out. You go to school, you come home. Two weeks.” 

Jughead peered up at his dad curiously, as if he wasn’t too familiar with the word. “But don’t you have to do something bad? Did I do anything?”

FP softened, clapping his shoulder. “No, boy. But I think my heart could use a break and I’ve gotta feeling that if Betty hadn’t brought you home, you probably wouldn’t have told me what almost happened tonight, huh?” 

If he’d been more alert, Betty assumed he would have contested the point, but as it was, he merely scrunched up his nose and accepted his fate. Betty bid her farewells, and drove her car around the block, before heading back to the house. She couldn’t help her smile at seeing the window propped open, and Jughead sitting cross-legged, staring at it expectantly. He was still in his nice black shirt and jeans, rumpled and adorable, and his face broke into a grin at the sight of her. She stepped into his room, partially closing the window behind her and noticed that the heater was already on and blasting. “Shouldn’t you get dressed for bed?” She prompted, when it didn’t look as if he would say anything. 

He nodded. “I was just waiting for you.” He patted the bed as he got off it and headed for the bathroom. “Just sit there- do you want anything- I mean- you don’t drink water?”

She rolled her eyes fondly at his attempt to be a good host, as she made herself comfortable on his bed. It was soft like she remembered and completely absorbed with his scent. She drew herself up to the top, leaning her back against the headboard and stretching her legs out in front of her. She listened as he pottered around the bathroom. He was clumsier today than he was when alone, and she tried to give him some privacy. His school bag was still closed and in the same position as it had been when he’d returned home from school on Friday, so she guessed he hadn’t done any school work yet. He always did do his homework, though. When would he get around to it? The grades mattered to humans as they progressed from one stage of life to the next. 

When he appeared, he was in his pyjamas and his breath smelt of toothpaste. He let out a sigh of relief that she was still there, and she returned the sentiment. How strange he was. To be happy alone in his room with a vampire. 

He flicked on the lamp by his bed before turning off the overhead light and shutting the window fully. He dawdled, and she watched with blatant amusement as he seemed to work up the courage to join her on the mattress. Once he’d done it though, he bravely committed, and shuffled into the same position as her, their shoulders touching. She was grateful for her long sleeves acting as a slim barrier between his heat and her cold. 

He made a loud noise of contentment when their knees knocked, and grinned at her. “I have a question.”

Betty snorted, leaning her head against the wood and nodding. The beanie he often wore was hanging off one corner of the bedpost, and she inhaled it- rather pleased with the lack of physical response at the mouth-watering scent. “I’m surprised.” She remarked dryly.

He continued, undeterred. He was excited about this one. His face was flushed and his eyes were bright despite the darkness beneath them and the tint of red in white. He’d been thinking about this, then. Once again, she wished she could read his mind. “Let’s say, for hypotheticals sake, that someone could read someone else’s mind…” Betty inhaled sharply, and he grinned like he’d won. How could he be so perspective? No one had ever guessed that about her before- apart from Fred, and it had been obvious at the beginning. She hadn’t known about it either, and had been answering all his thoughts as if he’d said them aloud. “How would that work exactly?”

“Not  _ everyone’s.”  _ She amended, and he looked at her curiously. “You,” she admitted with a rough sigh, “and your dad are my only exceptions. At least I can get bits and pieces from your dad, but you…” she shook her head wistfully. “Complete silence.” 

“Huh.” He murmured thoughtfully. She watched as he adjusted to the idea. In the end, he looked decidedly pleased. “Probably for the best. And what about Jason? Can he do something with feelings?” 

Betty whistled in complete amazement and Jughead rubbed his neck sheepishly. “How I thought I could ever hide this from you amazes me.” 

“Aw, shucks,” he managed through a yawn. 

He looked so soft and touchable. “Go to sleep,” she suggested. He frowned, straightening up as if he were going to force himself awake all night just so she wouldn’t go. And what a day he’d had. Though he hadn’t confirmed it, he had to know about wolves, and he’d been punched, and fainted, and almost mugged, and then uncovered more about vampires than Betty thought he’d ever know. “I won’t leave.” She promised. She spent most nights here anyway.

He relaxed immediately, shuffling further down and into the blankets. He was so comfortable it astounded her. She moved further down too, careful not to trap the blanket underneath her, and draping it over him more. He snuggled into his pillows, on his side so he could look at her. She turned onto her side too, elbow under her head. His warm breath fanned over her face. “Aren’t you tired?” He asked sleepily, eyes fluttering shut. 

“I don’t sleep.”

His eyes opened again, and his lips parted in awe. “What?  _ Ever?”  _ He whispered, and she half smiled. 

“It’s okay. I’ll stand guard.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but was asleep before the words could leave his lips. She’d never been so close to him before. Their noses nearly touching and the pure heat of him radiating onto her. She almost wanted to laugh the way he had earlier in the car. Realising that love was so wonderfully, mercifully easy at the crux of it all. Sure their path was waylaid with disaster, but right now, in this room, they were two people who loved one another. What could be simpler than that? 

He didn’t talk that night, nor did he dream. Just a long, deep slumber. His arm, however, half way through the starry darkness, did drape across her stomach as he attempted to pull her into his chest. 

She moved ever so gently with his grip, swallowing as the burn of his skin- his chest against her arm, his knees against her legs and his arm on her stomach, seared her. Though she hadn’t hunted for a while now, her desire to kill him was nothing to her desire to stay wrapped up in that little pocket of perfection forever. 

She may not be able to sleep, but she felt more peaceful than ever before. 

…

…

…

Jughead yawned, nuzzling into the refreshing coolness beside him. His room felt stuffy and hot, and the cold was a relief against it. 

It took him a moment to realise precisely what that cold was. He opened his eyes in pleased surprise to see that Betty was still there, looking at him and looking just the same as she had the night before. So it hadn’t been a dream then. He smiled, his eyes flickering over her face. “You stayed,” he pointed out delightedly. 

She nodded, her blonde hair falling perfectly over her cheek. He was tempted to reach out and brush it over her ear, but didn’t want to make it any worse for her. Her eyes were even darker than yesterday and he wondered how much of a struggle it was for them to be so close together. “I did. Sleep is a very good look for you.” 

He blushed furiously, running his fingers through his hair self consciously. It was clumped to the one side of his head that had been cushioned in the pillow all night. “What time is it?” 

“Around eleven.”

Jughead’s jaw dropped open. “ _ What?”  _ He exclaimed, sitting up and turning to look at the clock himself. Oh god, how long had he been asleep?

“You were tired, it’s alright,” Betty said soothingly, sitting up too. “Your dad came in to check on you, but he knows you had a rough night. He’s downstairs now.”

“He came in?” Jughead blinked, “but how did you…”

“Under the bed.” She grinned. 

He snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Okay. I need to take a few human moments.”

Betty nodded. “Sure, I’ll head home-”

“No!” He whirled to her, reaching out to grab her wrist. “No, I’m only gonna be like five minutes-”

She smiled softly at him, cocking her head as her dijon eyes looked at him. “So am I.”

Right. The insane speed. He should have remembered. He blushed a little, before wincing at the way his fingers were still curled around her wrist. He gently pulled them off, watching her warily for signs she would be upset by the contact. 

He wasn’t subtle enough, and she caught his discomfort. “What is it?” 

He considered lying for a fleeting moment before remembering that she could hear his heartbeat. “You just- I keep forgetting not to just touch you, you know? Not that- not that all I want to do is- not that I  _ don’t  _ want to, it’s just-” he cut himself off before he could dig a bigger hole. 

His entire body jerked when her hands reached out to cup his face. He stared at her in shock. She cradled his jaw gently, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “You can touch me,” she assured, even though it seemed to conflict with all the other things she’d told him. “Right now I’ve been with you for so long I’m practically desensitized to your scent. You’re not in any danger, I don’t think. Not as long as I remember to be careful.” 

He nuzzled gently into her palm. “You should always stay with me then,” he decided. “So you’re always desensitized.” 

She smiled, pulling her hands away and checking the areas she’d just touched as if she’d hurt him. How fragile did she think he was? Just how strong was she? “It’s a solid plan,” she assured him, and her eyes landed on his lips. 

He wetted them reflexively, his own gaze turning to hers. “And...kissing? Is that…” his voice wavered nervously, and she smiled a little. Both of them clearly remembering what had happened the last time. 

“Probably best not to do that without some warning.” She said carefully. 

“Because it’s too difficult? Did I make it too hard for you last time?” He winced at the memory. The way she’d torn herself away from him as if he’d scolded her. 

She reached for his hand and brought it to her mouth, inhaling deeply and pressing a closed-mouth kiss against it. He pressed his fingers against her cheek, and with bated breath, slid his hand up to her hair, brushing it behind her ear and lingering there. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and watched as her eyes shut and she simply breathed in and out. “It was the surprise more than anything. But I am stronger now. With warning and…” she opened her eyes to shoot him a meaningful look, “some caution on both sides, we should be okay.” 

Jughead swallowed thickly, sliding his fingers into her hair. It was soft and thick and he leaned forward a little. “I’m going to kiss you now?” He asked, watching her for any signs of reluctance. 

Instead, she smiled a little, and nodded. She closed her eyes, and stayed perfectly still. 

He shuffled towards, admiring the sheer beauty of her face, before closing his eyes and kissing her once; softly on the mouth. Her lip gloss had faded so he got the addictive, rosy taste of  _ her.  _ The need to be cautious warred with desire. Kissing her was like nothing he’d ever experienced. It was bliss. He leaned forward again, kissing her with a little more force this time, and he felt her move slightly against him. Her hand tangled in the front of his tee, and he fisted his fingers a little tighter in her hair. Every one of his nerves felt electrified, his skin buzzing with lust, and he parted his lips swiping his tongue against her full, bottom lip. 

Her mouth parted too in response, and she pushed against him, eliciting a deep, guttural moan from the back of his throat. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted her. He hadn’t even known that desire like this could exist. His hand found her waist and suddenly he was on his back, the weight of her on top of him and the clack of their teeth as their mouths slid together. He was pushed into the mattress, and her free hand found its way into his hair; forcing his head back. He could just pant harshly as she pressed a series of open mouthed kisses down his jaw and then his neck.

His hand on her waist moved onto her bare skin; cold to the touch but alluring all the same. He dimly recognised that this was not erring on the side of caution, but selfish desire ignored that part of his mind as he let his hand drift up her ribcage, until they met the soft, lacy fabric of her bra. She moaned into neck, lifting her head to look down at him. Her pupils were blown wide with lust, as he was certain his own were. Their mouths met again, and his other hand left her hair, wrapping around her waist to splay across her back. She felt so good against him, so perfect, and so utterly remarkable. He didn’t know what this was between them, but it was nothing ordinary, he was certain of that. Her hands were suddenly under his shirt, and he shivered with want at her cold palms sliding up his chest.

There was a strange, ripping sound he didn’t fully understand, and all he could hear were her gentle sighs. His hand moved slowly over the swell of her breast, and he let out a shaky gasp of arousal, just as her mouth found his throat again, his voice hitched at the sharp scrape of teeth against his skin-

Before she was gone. 

He sat up, panting and eyes wide. One second there, the next second gone, his eyes swivelled around the room and she was against the furthest wall. Her hair dishevelled and her pupils blown.

“I’m sorry,” he managed quickly, voice croaky with nerves. “I pushed it, and I-”

To his relief, she didn’t seem angry. “We need to work on our caution,” she managed softly, and he quirked her a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault. It was our fault. Okay?”

He let out a sigh of relief; shoulders slumping. “Okay. I’m happy to work on it.”

She laughed, though her eyes were still concerned. “Juggie, you really need to know the danger you're in. I feel as if you’re not aware of the full extent-”

He waved off her worries. “Stop trying to scare me away.” He insisted. “Will you come back after you get changed?” He bit his bottom lip. He could feel himself throbbing in his underwear, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she could too. “Maybe I’ll shower as well.” He added. 

She nodded, heading for the window. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Promise?” He asked, sounding desperate but not caring one jot. 

She smiled, but looked like she was thinking about something. He wondered what it was, and then grinned to himself. This must be how she felt being unable to read his mind- only more frustrating as she could read everyone else’s. “I promise.” 

He watched her going, finding the way she leapt from the window to the tree absurdly funny. It was a dark, stormy day outside, and he headed into the bathroom.

He froze when he saw his reflection. His pyjama shirt was sliced down the front, as if it had been cut with scissors, and his neck was covered in various splotches of red and blue. Now that he could see them, the pain blossomed up, and he touched them gingerly. There were bruises down his chest and upon closer examination, little bruise-shaped fingerprints on the underside of his jaw. Betty was right. He didn’t know the full extent of the danger he was in. He hadn’t even  _ noticed  _ as all of this had been occuring. And that was slightly scary. He trusted Betty completely, but he was surprised at his own lack of self-awareness. 

Bruises would heal and they didn’t bother him, but she hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said that one wrong move could kill him. He’d never felt so frighteningly mortal. 

After a long, hot shower, he searched his room for clothes and was confused to find that his hoard of ‘s’ tee’s had depleted considerably. It was for the best anyway, he’d need something more covering. He found an old hoodie in the back of his wardrobe and slid it on over his bare skin, zipping it up all the way. It didn’t do an excellent job of hiding his neck, so he tugged up the hood, and shoved his legs into some shorts before heading downstairs.

His dad had obviously heard the shower, and he was making Jughead breakfast in the kitchen. “Well, look who’s finally up. How are you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?” He called, slicing pieces of melon. 

Jughead snorted, collapsing into a seat at the table. “Better. Long night which I am never going to repeat.” 

FP hummed, setting down the lovingly prepared fruit bowl in front of his son. Jughead plucked a strawberry into his fingers and popped it into his mouth. “Heard from Reggie?”

“Shit,” Jughead swore as he realised. “No, I told him to message me last night but i completely forgot.”

“You had a rough night,” his dad soothed, “call him after breakfast. But now,” he sat heavily into the chair opposite his son, setting down his coffee. “You just happened to run into Betty last night, huh?”

The teenager swallowed thickly, picking up a piece of banana. FP’s eyes were warm but stern, and Jughead sighed. “I had no idea she’d be there, dad. It’s lucky she and Jason were though.” Jughead suddenly distantly remembered being grounded. Why had he been grounded? Had he even done anything wrong? He decided not to fight the point. His dad looked irritated enough as it was.

FP let out a loud exhale. “I’m glad she was there, Jug, but...I know girls like her. They think they have it all and that everyone should do what they say. Don’t get taken into her web.” 

It accurately described a number of girls at his old school, but Betty was nothing like that. “She’s not like that, dad. She’s just...been through some stuff, and I- she’s a good person. Give her a second chance.”

He watched as his dad took a sip of coffee, perhaps contemplating. “What about Toni? You two were getting on so well yesterday morning, remember?” 

Jughead sighed. It was evidently going to take his father a little more time to forgive Betty, only because he didn’t understand all the context. “Toni’s great, but we’re better as friends.” 

“For now.” FP continued easily, ignoring Jughead’s exasperated expression. “What are your plans for today, then? Considering you can’t leave the house.” 

“I was just gonna stay in and do some homework. I have a history essay due in soon, and I need to finish editing some articles for the  _ BlueandGold.  _ Stay in my bed all day like a normal teenager?” He asked, lifting his eyebrows hopefully. That would mean that he and Betty could have a space to hang out without too much fuss. 

His dad seemed pleased at the idea. “You could never be a normal teenager. I’m glad you’re doing more writing though,” he gestured to the bowl, and Jughead took another slice of melon dutifully. “I have a few house calls to make, so I’ll be popping in and out.” He paused, scrutinising his son carefully. “Are you the sneaking out type of teenager?”

Of course. He didn’t really know what type of teenager Jughead was. For all they’d connected, there were things that wouldn’t become apparent until more time had passed. “I’ve never been grounded before…” he hummed thoughtfully, the melon sweet on his tongue. His mother had never really cared what he got up to. He’d been sent to his room a number of times, but more often than not, he had the house pretty much to himself. “I won’t sneak out, though. Probably.” 

“I don’t know,” FP teased, “I think you might be a troublemaker at heart.” 

Jughead touched his chest, widening his eyes in mock-innocence. “Who, me?”

FP stood up, flicking his forehead. “You need anything you just call me, alright?” He paused, standing over his son for a moment. “Those guys who tried to...to mug you last night- do I need to go to Sheriff Keller and make a report? Would that make you feel safer?”

Jughead remembered how he’d felt last night, before Betty and Jason arrived. The way the men had closed in on him- how his heart had leapt up into his throat and he’d wondered how many of his bones would be broken. He’d been scared, definitely, but ready to fight after he’d realised they weren’t going to listen to his pleas of ending this in a civilised way. The leader was dead anyway. He wondered whether Jason had killed him and drained his blood, or just killed him. Would he have been able to resist? “I don’t think so. Jason really...he really scared them.”

“I shouldn’t condone violence but those Andrews’ kids are built like houses.” FP said approvingly, “you’re a real magnet for trouble. Maybe I should sign you up for a few self-defence classes.” 

“Oh god no,” Jughead whined, “please don’t.”

FP’s handed landed warm and heavy on his back. “Stick to the buddy system. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

“On it.” He agreed eagerly, collecting his fruit bowl and running upstairs two at a time. His phone was in his jeans from last night, and he had no messages or missed calls. Worriedly, he called Reggie. 

It was answered on the penultimate ring.  _ “Ugh. What?”  _

“You’re okay,” Jughead breathed, heart unclenching. “Is Josie with you?” 

_ “Uh- yeah. Oh god jesus what time is it?”  _

“Late,” Jughead grinned, jumping onto his bed happily, phone pressed to his ear. “You got given a ride home by Jason Andrews.” 

_ “Fuck me! We did not.”  _

“You totally did. He and Betty were in town. You gave him your keys and everything.” 

_ “I need an aspirin.”  _ Reggie grumbled, and Jughead heard him get out of bed and start hobbling around.  _ “Betty, huh? I think I remember something about that. You two made up?” _

Jughead half smiled. “I think so. Talked it all out.” 

_ “I’m glad. Now, I’m gonna go throw up. You still need a ride tomorrow?”  _

Jughead rather hoped Betty would give him a lift, but if she didn’t, he could always ride in.  _ “ _ Nope, don’t worry. I am grounded though, so if you ever wanna do anything with me, you’ll have to come to my house.” 

_ “Ha! Grounded! What a loser.”  _ Reggie managed between dry retches. Jughead rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Drink water, and tell Josie hi from me.” He said chipperly, ending the call and tossing his phone into the quilts. 

“And you didn’t trust, Jason.” Betty tutted, and Jughead whirled around in surprise to see Betty sitting on his window cill. She was beautiful. Her hair now swept up into a ponytail, she wore a sky blue jumper with dark blue jeans. Her eyes lingered on his neck, where his hoodie had been partially dislodged, but she didn't say anything. 

Jughead grinned, patting the spot next to him. “In my defence, he’s significantly scarier than you.”

Betty glared at him. “I resent that.” She bounced onto the mattress beside him so quickly it seemed as if she’d teleported. He was happy she felt relaxed enough not to hide in front of him. “So, what are we doing?” 

“Homework.” He declared happily, and she snorted. 

“I didn’t bring my laptop.” 

“You can use mine. I need to do some proofreading anyway.” She seemed pleased by this idea. “And you’re picking the background music.” He decided. He wanted to know what type of music she liked. He’d asked mostly species-related questions and he was becoming more intrigued by the average things. But he hadn’t asked a question that had been bothering him for some time. And that was  _ when  _ she’d been turned. It wasn’t because he worried about when- she could be over a thousand years old and it wouldn’t bother him, but if he’d pegged her right, she wouldn’t like the reminder of another one of their differences. He was quickly deciphering that her being with him was a constant struggle for her and not just because of his blood. She was torn between wanting him to have a normal life and then apparently destroying him with her presence. 

It was a futile struggle as far as Jughead was concerned. He was never going to have a normal life, nor did he want one if it couldn’t be with her. 

As he reached for his laptop and she fiddled through her spotify, he was certain that the flame between them was not one that could easily be blown out. 

They worked in quiet contentment for a few hours. Betty always had ample warning when his dad was going to come back and she darted under the bed. He checked the google document on his phone and was surprised, except not surprised, to see that Polly had completed her side of the project completely. He chuckled to himself. He drafted a few ideas, but she’d left the perfect gaps for him to finish up the research. 

“Are you a virgin?” Betty asked, jolting him out of his headspace.  _ Debussy- Clair de Lune  _ was playing through his speakers, and she had his laptop balancing on her knees. He balked a little once he fully comprehended her question. 

“Uh...are you?” He deflected, an she eyed him questioningly. 

“I am.” 

He nodded a little, wondering whether that was because during the time she’d been changed it hadn’t been proper to lose their virginity before marriage, or because she simply hadn’t wanted to. She was so beautiful that surely, if she had wished during her time as a vampire- however long or short that may be- she could have had it with another. 

“You can’t be, can you?” 

He blinked, half-smiling. “Why’s that?” 

“Girls aren’t blind,” Betty informed him, gesturing to him as one hand continued to type deftly on the keys. A few times she’d been severely unhappy with the sluggish nature of his laptop and insisted he upgrade into something faster. He’d just laughed and expressed his fondness of his old, reliable pc. He blushed at her inference, and shook his head. The fact she found him attractive was mind-boggling. He knew he was reaching far above his league, but he was content to enjoy it while it lasted. 

“Virgin over here, too.” 

His answer upset her. He tried to figure out why. Kissing was difficult with her, and so surely sex was off the table- ah. She felt bad that he might never have sex. He contemplated that for a moment. Before she’d even come along, he’d never expressed interest in girls before, and whilst sex was something he wanted, he wanted Betty more. He’d give it up gladly. He told her as much, but she just sighed. “You say that now, but humans are very changeable.” She said sullenly. 

He bit his lip, thinking. “I’ll tell you if I ever change my mind,” he said quietly. “If I ever want  _ sex  _ more than I want you, how about I let you know? You might be waiting a long time.”

“Hmm,” she murmured with a smile, shaking her head fondly. “Hey Juggie? I’m going to kiss you now.” 

He smiled widely, as she leaned over his laptop to press her lips against his. Short and chaste, she pulled away before either of them could give in to their temptations. “That was better, huh?” He asked with a grin. "No casualties yet." 

"That implies that _I_ could be a casualty." 

He winked at her, feeling confident and happy with himself. He liked breaking through her seriousness with humour. Her smile was breathtaking and she was depriving the world of it. "Of course. Can I kiss you?"

She nodded, almost shyly, before closing her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/Prompt lovelies! 
> 
> PS: Jughead guessed Jason's power based on the way that Josie/Reggie felt sleepily as soon as he arrived. That wasn't as obvious as I intended, but just incase you wondered ;) mwah mwah x


	13. The Purply-Blue Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead and Betty talk souls and Toni has an epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you
> 
> Enjoy!

When Betty got back home on Sunday afternoon, it was to everyone watching tv in the spacious living room. They’d been out that morning because when she’d come to get changed the house had been empty, but they were all there now, and she hovered uncertainly in the doorway. They were all immaculate statues and it was incredibly jarring from spending so long with Jughead; all rosy cheeked and warm, to this. 

Polly didn’t turn to look at her, a smug smile on her face. Hermione was smiling too, soft and pleased, just like Fred. Archie and Veronica were tangled together on one of the sofas, but waved- consciously deciding not to make a big deal about it. Cheryl and Jason, however, arched their eyebrows expectantly.  _ She smells like him. He smells good. I wonder what he’d taste like  _ Jason thought, but Betty ignored him for Cheryl’s mind. 

_ Her eyes are so dark. She needs to hunt. How was she even with him for so long? Maybe she killed him- no, no. She’d probably be a mess if she had.  _

Betty rolled her eyes at the faith, aware that the scent of him still clung to her. “Jason,” she began, “and Polly- thank you for being there.”

Polly did look up at her then, a small smile on her face. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch it earlier, Betty.”  _ I should have been watching more closely. He really does need a full time keeper, doesn’t he?  _

“He sure does,” Betty said wryly, turning to Jason. The red head looked up at her; head cocked and reading her emotions. It was a surprise to see them in his mind: contentment and fuzziness surrounded her, along with love, protectiveness and joy. Even through Jason’s eyes she could see a warmth to her cheeks, a side effect of staying in Jughead’s company for so long.  _ No worries. Felt good to kill. Don’t tell Polly that.  _ Jason thought happily, and Betty was greeted to a memory of Jonathan begging for his life, only to be tossed into a river. He’d been significantly tortured, she thought; once again grateful for Jason. 

“I’d love to meet him some time, mija,” Hermione offered gently, “if you ever felt like bringing him to the house.” 

“He could come to my birthday party next week. Which is going to be amazing, isn’t it?” Cheryl asked, standing up and clasping her hands. Polly nodded. “He has to buy me a present, Betty, just because he’s your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s immune.” 

“Good idea, Cheryl,” Fred beamed warmly. 

Boyfriend. The word made her giddy and yet still didn’t feel like quite enough.  _ Did she- his scent is on her lips- did they...how??  _ Archie thought to himself, different images running through his mind as he tried to contemplate the idea. He already felt guilty enough for hurting Jughead inadvertently, and worried about how he and Betty could even kiss. It was dangerous, she supposed, letting herself do something so human. But it was...god kissing him turned eternity into a few precious seconds. The heady scent of his arousal in the air, how much he lusted after her- it was no surprise that humans found their kind beautiful, but with Jughead it was so much stronger. So much more passionate.

Jason could read the lust radiating off her, and she quickly changed her thoughts. “I need to go hunting. Anyone wanna come?” 

“I’ll come,” Veronica chirped, disentangling herself from Archie and smoothing down her red dress. “We have some talking to do anyway, don’t we?”  _ You. Kissed. Him. You are telling me everything.  _

Betty groaned, but the two of them bid everyone farewell and went running deep into the forest. The conversation was stalled mostly, by Betty’s realisation of how hungry she truly was. How she’d been able to resist Jughead amazed her, and as she drained an elk, nearly moaning over the pure taste of it, she collapsed onto a rock in contentment. 

Veronica arched her perfect eyebrow bemusedly, the white bunny in her hand going lax and her lips smeared red.  _ You finally kissed Jughead Jones. How was it?  _ She thought, moving to perch beside her sister, mouth still sealed around the wound.

Betty looked up at the foliage; snippets of stormy sky above peaking through. “Wonderful. Dangerous.” She sighed. “We can’t control it very well. You should have seen his neck, V…” she rubbed her eyes at the memory of them. Completely bruised down one side of his elegant slope. She hadn’t detected any signs of pain off him, but still-

“Hickeys are common,” Veronica waved her off, nonplussed as she tossed the corpse into a small pit they would use to make a fire. “You didn’t kill him and I take that as a serious win.”  _ I don’t think I could have got so close.  _

“It gets easier the longer you’re around him.” Betty half smiled. “We’ve made a pact to stay in each other’s company as much as possible to reduce risk.” 

_ You guys are cute. We do need to meet him formally. You know that Polly’s vision is getting stronger? _

Betty sighed. “I’m feeling okay about that. If it’s getting easier to be around him as a human, he can stay human. We won’t need to bite him if I can handle it.” She couldn’t leave him at any rate. 

_ Yeah but...he will die someday, B. What are you gonna do then? Just hang around for what- 80 years? He’ll get old.  _ She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

The blonde vampire snorted, licking some blood off her hand. “I’m over a hundred years old, I don’t think I’m going to be worried about it.”

“Maybe. But he will.” Veronica reminded, gold eyes knowing. “And then what happens when he dies? You’re just gonna continue on without him? I’ve seen your bond, Betty. You can’t lose one another. And just look how clumsy he is! He was made for this life.” Her thoughts turned towards Jughead’s appearance, trying to picture him with snowy skin and the vibrant red eyes that newborns had at first. Betty could barely stomach it. 

“No one was made for this life.” Betty snapped harshly, the low timbre of her voice scaring a few birds out of neighbouring trees. “He has a soul and I won’t let anyone take it from him. If he dies- he’ll go to heaven like good humans do. And I’ll go to Italy.” 

Shock rendered Veronica’s thoughts mute, and she stared at Betty with wide eyes. “You can’t...you can’t be serious.” She choked eventually, when it became clear that Betty wasn’t joking. 

“Would you keep on going without Archie?” 

Veronica faltered. She tried to picture her life without the red-head, but couldn’t bear the idea.  _ I guess...but Betty, what about the rest of us? You’re just going to go and kill yourself? Imagine what you’ll be putting the rest of us through. The bonds everyone has to you- that’s not something that’ll heal lightly. It’ll change all of us.  _

Betty swallowed against the rising tide of emotion, and reached out to nudge Veronica lightly. She couldn’t push her off the rock, so it ended up cracking down the middle between them. “Nothing to worry about yet. We have eighty years or so.” 

_ But he’s so clumsy. He could die at any moment, which means you could die at any moment.  _

“What are you getting for Cheryl’s birthday?” Betty asked by way of distraction. 

Veronica immediately thought of the photo collage she and Archie had created and grimaced.  _ No stealing our idea!  _

“I wasn’t going to.” She scoffed, “I know exactly what Cheryl wants in case you’ve forgotten.” 

_ Which is why if you get it for her it won’t mean anything  _ Veronica chimed in a sing-song voice. 

Betty succeeded her in pushing her off the rock that time.

 

She was back at the Jones house bright and early the next morning, after spending the night inhaling Jughead’s scent. Monday; as they creeped further and further into the winter season, was a grey, moorish day with a distant fog that crept over Riverdale. The sun, wherever it was, was hidden behind thick clouds and offered a gloomy freedom to the vampires who roamed beneath it. FP’s thoughts were sulky as they spotted Betty’s car, but he didn’t say anything, and soon Jughead was fumbling through the front door; satchel half sliding off his shoulders- which were clad in a deep, v-neck maroon sweater that she hadn’t seen before. He wore nothing beneath it, and his soft skin flashed around his collar. 

“Betts,” he grinned, as she pushed off her car. “Good morning!” 

He’d been so much happier lately. But then again, so had she. It was love, after all. She only had limited time with him, and she’d treasure every moment. “Morning, Juggie,” she beamed, pleased at the nickname. She hoped  _ Betts  _ would stick around. 

To her surprise, he saddled right up to her, hair flopping- still a little wetly- into his forehead. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He said, before leaning in to press a sweet, soft touch to her lips. 

He was pulling away before she had real time to really react, and seemed delighted to have caught her off guard. He winked and she bit her bottom lip to stop from grinning too hard. “”C’mon, I am still burning with questions.”

“Ah, of course,” Betty nodded, pretending not to notice FP peeking out through the curtains at them as they both got into the car. They’d found somewhat of a common ground in music- Betty was resolutely stuck in her current interest of early 20th century composition pieces, whilst Jughead was keen to try everything once. He hadn’t found too much interest in the technical workings of the pianos, but they’d landed safely in the jazz era, and it filled the car nicely as they drove. He hadn’t immediately leapt into the question which meant he was nervous about it, and she wondered what it could be. There were so many options. He knew so much, and yet didn’t know  _ enough.  _ She inhaled deeply, and venom flooded her mouth. She swallowed against it, relishing the burn, before turning to look at him. The splotchy blues of his neck were starkly visible against his bare skin and they took her by surprise. He wasn’t the type of person who’d want to showcase something like that, which meant he’d evidently forgotten he had them. Whilst she was pleased by this (because it meant she hadn’t hurt him like she feared), the rumours this would churn up wouldn’t be good if he preferred to keep a low profile. 

Then again, it might be nice for people to know he was very much taken. 

“Juggie, your neck,” she offered, pressing down on the brake as they joined the flow of morning traffic. 

He frowned, before his eyes widened in recognition and one of his hands flew to his neck. “Oh  _ shit.”  _ Something seemed to click in his head. “ _ That’s  _ why dad was being so weird.”

Ah. That could explain FP’s mood. As far as he knew Jughead hadn’t left the house all weekend. “I might have a scarf somewhere?” She offered. 

Jughead groaned. “No, no scarves are always really obvious and Reggie won’t let it lie.” He sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair distractingly. “I’ll just...well,” he looked at her, biting his bottom lip. “Should I tell people we’re together?” 

She hummed happily. “If you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Definitely not,” he said quickly, eagerly if she was reading him right. But it was all besides the point.

“I thought you had questions for me?” 

He winced, turning to look out the window. “They can wait.” 

She lifted her eyebrows, creeping forward as the traffic began to move. “I’ll only worry. I’ll make it much worse in my mind. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Jug?” 

He sighed, faux-glaring at her, before sighing. “You won’t like it.” He warned.

That helped narrow it down. He was able to read her well, and she didn’t doubt that he pegged her right. He was going to ask more about vampires then- but more personal. More about her. What wouldn’t she like? Something regarding their relationship?

“How old are you?” 

Well. Shit. Betty swallowed, eyes on the road. “You were right.” God she was far too old for him. What was she even doing? It was wildly inappropriate and- he made a knowing sound and she realised she was probably reacting exactly as expected. She took a controlled breath to calm herself. “I stopped aging when I was 18.” 

He turned to her, jeans rubbing against the leather. “And when were you turned?” 

Her fingers curled tight around the steering wheel; braced for his reaction. Would this be it? Would this be the thing to send him running? He’d been fine with monsters and the supernatural, but humans were pedantic about ages and numbers. “I was turned by my dad in 1902. So that makes me a hundred and thirty four. Technically.” It was the same age that Cheryl would be turning next week. They’d only been turned months part as Fred and Hermione tried to complete their family. 

His heartbeat didn’t waver, but he let out a puff of air. “Woah. So you were born in the 19th century?”

Emboldened by his lack of fear, Betty nodded. “I don’t remember much of it at all. Human memories are always much weaker.”

“So Mr Andrews turned you? Why?” 

“A number of reasons. He’d already turned Archie, and I think they were going to leave it there. But my mother- Hermione, she had always wanted daughters. Fred was working in a hospital in New Orleans and he found me dying. I think nowadays it could be easily cured- whatever I had, but back then it was fatal. I didn’t have any family, and he thought I was too young for that to be it. He knew no one would miss me, so…” she half smiled, remembering waking up for the first time in her new body, in her new life. To the smiling faces of Fred, Archie and Hermione. She and Archie had been bestfriends since they first laid eyes on each other. “I was meant for Archie, really. They wanted him to have love and I’m sure that was a part of it but we were meant to be brother and sister.” 

Jughead was smiling like he thought the story was sweet instead of scary. “And the rest of them?” 

Betty had never had the opportunity to tell these stories before. She took to it like a duck to water. “Archie was the first. A few years after Fred was turned he lived next door to Archie; watched him grow up. He didn’t have a great homelife. Archie’s biological mother wasn’t…” she paused, trying not to upset Jughead. “She wasn’t a good woman. But Fred never did anything about it, until Archie came to him; beaten bad and desperate. Fred did it, it was a huge risk, and took them away. Then they found Hermione. Love at first sight, I think. She knew she was going to die, this was the late seventeenth century- tainted water sources in her town had ensured a short life span. She and Fred wanted eternal love. She was the mother Archie should have had.” Betty smiled to herself. “Cheryl was turned a few months after me- it’s her birthday next week, by the way, and you’re invited.” Jughead grinned, nodding, before he paled. 

“Oh god, do I have to get her a present?” 

“Yup. And it has to be amazing.” Betty teased, before sobering slightly. 

“When Fred found Cheryl she was...she’d been beaten really bad. By a group of thugs, and he couldn’t bear to leave her lying there. He saved her, and she...well, she got her vengeance.” She shuddered at the memories she’d seen in Cheryl’s mind. Though those men had deserved it, Cheryl had certainly been...inventive in her disposal of them. “She...she hates what we are. I’m not sure if she’s grateful or furious at dad, it’s too hard to tell sometimes. I’m not sure  _ she  _ knows. Hermione thinks it would be better if Cheryl found a...a  _ mate  _ but it hasn’t happened yet. She thought it would be Jason- Cheryl found him about a year ago; a soldier returned home from Iraq. He’s not sure what happened, but she found him and felt...a connection. She thought he’d be her mate, but...he was made for Polly.” 

Jughead winced in sympathy, and Betty nodded. 

“Polly was more unusual. She found us. She’d been turned a few years after me and Cheryl. We don’t know who by, or why. Probably a loner vampire. It’s unusual to just bite and leave- if you’ve got that level of self control, you’d stop and stay with your newborn. I can’t imagine having to figure things out by yourself. It’s never bothered Polly though. Her visions helped her find us, and- fun fact,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “Polly and I are actually very distant cousins.”

Jughead snorted. “That’s cool.” 

“I know, right?” Betty grinned. How small humanity could be. One ape and a million years.

“And what about Veronica?”

She caught her tongue, before proceeding carefully. “Veronica...Veronica was turned in the 60’s. A New York socialite-”

“Yes!” Jughead grinned, fistbumping the air. “I knew I got a ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ vibe off her.” 

Betty hummed. “She’ll like you said that. She could have  _ been  _ Audrey Hepburn. She was rich, gorgeous and a renowned party girl.” She could remember her first impressions of Veronica. They’d been less than stellar, initially. “We stopped off in New York as a family, and that’s where Archie and Veronica met. Archie had never- well, he’d never felt like that towards a girl and Veronica put the pieces together pretty quickly.” More by accident, really. New York could be an unnervingly sunny place and it had been a matter of wrong place, wrong time. Or right, depending on how you looked at it. “At the same time, her father was arrested. It was a complete surprise, he’d been dirty for years but she didn’t want the path that was planned for her. She just...she asked Archie. And he said yes.” 

Jughead didn’t breathe for a moment.

Betty resisted the urge to bang her head into the steering wheel because she didn’t think the car could take it. This was why she hadn’t told him. 

“She just asked for it?” He murmured, eyebrows furrowing. “But Cheryl hates it so much, and so do you…”

“I don’t  _ hate  _ it,” Betty amended. “Not the way Cheryl does, anyway. But Veronica loves it. She adores it. Everything about it. The way she saw it was she got her eternal youth and beauty, and the love of her life. No matter the cost.” 

“You don’t think you have a soul?” He asked quietly, as if just realising it. 

It was a difficult thing to admit, but something she’d come to terms with. “I  _ know  _ I don’t.” 

He didn’t say anything for a long while, and she turned to look at him when her curiosity built up too much. He was looking contemplatively at the speakers where a trumpet was having its time in the spotlight. Eventually, he spoke. “You don’t  _ all _ think that though, do you?”

That was true, she supposed. Archie and Polly didn’t think about things like that, Jason had yet to contemplate it, so new into this existence was he. But Fred and Hermione were deeply religious so they believed they had a place in the after life, and Veronica didn’t believe in souls  _ at all.  _ Cheryl was on Betty’s side though, that was for sure. That they were damned; monsters walking the earth. Should she even be allowed the love from this human beside her? “Do you believe in god?” She asked suddenly. Would he? It was always hard to peg about humans. 

He tapped his fingers against his knee. “I don’t know. Maybe? A little. I believe there’s  _ something.  _ I like the idea of religion. I certainly don’t believe that you don’t have a soul. I’m certain of it.” His heart thumped steadily with truth.

Betty eyed his chest warily before turning back to the road. “You have too much faith in me.” 

He didn’t back down. “Someone’s got to.” 

She couldn’t reply. 

When they pulled into the school, Betty frowned when she saw Cheryl waiting by the space she was going to take. A quick scan showed that Polly had told her, and Betty softened when she realised what Cheryl’s intention was. Jughead, however, chewed his bottom lip nervously as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

“Can she hear me right now?” He whispered, and Betty watched Cheryl role her eyes from her position outside. 

“I feel like my answer will only make you more anxious,” she hedged, and Jughead sighed, stepping out of the car.

As he adjusted the strap of his satchel, Cheryl stepped towards them, her eyes honing in on his neck.  _ Jesus! Polly never mentioned  _ _ that.  _ _ Buttoned-up Betty is a biter, huh?  _ She clasped her hands together and if Betty could have blushed, she would have. But as it was, she simply stood beside her boyfriend, and faced her sister, deciding not to make a comment since Cheryl’s intentions were so pure. “Jughead Jones,” she greeted royally, and Betty wondered idly what Jughead made of her. The rich, red tresses and the fur white coat made her look like something of a movie villain- a terrifyingly gorgeous movie villain- but scary nonetheless. Her heels were stilettos and she towered over the both of them. How she hadn’t been reprimanded by a teacher was astounding. They were all too afraid, Betty knew, but still. There was proper attire and then there was this. “I’m Cheryl; Betty’s sister. I’m sure she’s told you all about me.” 

He looked a little frazzled, raking his fingers through his hair and half nodding. “Y-yeah. It’s your birthday next week. Happy birthday?” He tried, eyes squinted as if he were irritated at his own social awkwardness. Betty linked their arms together; as a sign to show that she thought he was doing quite well. And also to hold him up if he fainted.

Cheryl smiled widely.  _ So Betty did tell him! Knew it.  _ “I wanted to give you a token to show that I am excited to have you in the family.” 

Betty winced at the wording. Surely this was moving a little fast? “Oh, sure,” Jughead said easily, tone fond. 

“This is my iconic spider broach.” Cheryl announced, reaching forward to pinch it onto his sweater. Betty readied herself, but Cheryl’s control was impeccable. She felt no significant desire for Jughead’s blood, and handled herself naturally; in perfect control. The bronze legs and ruby body was soon fastened to his maroon sweater, and he looked down at it, reluctance in his face.

“Oh, no, Cheryl, I can’t accept this-”

“Nonsense.” She beamed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. She left a bright red imprint there, and smirked at Betty knowingly.  _ Let’s see how Mrs Possessive likes that.  _ “It’s a gift, and I can get a million more. That’s why it’s so iconic. Besides, it suits you.”

He flushed, ducking his head. “Thank you,” he murmured, and Betty looked up as she heard Reggie and Josie arrive. Josie already had her eyes on them.  _ No way  _ the dark girl was thinking  _ Reggie was telling the truth! What the fuck? I thought she was done with him!  _

Reggie turned off the ignition, shaking his head fondly.  _ Nice.  _ He thought simply. 

“We should go, Cheryl,” Betty said, tugging Jughead away from her a little. He slipped slightly on the tarmac but she steadied him with a sigh. “I’ll be having lunch with Jug today, okay?”

Jughead beamed; pleased. Cheryl lifted her eyebrows in faux-amazement.  _ Total shocker. And here I thought she’d marked his neck because she wasn’t completely in love with him.  _ “That’s fine,” she remarked casually. “We won’t die without you.” 

Jughead snorted.

Cheryl and Betty eyed him and he flustered awkwardly. “Because you- you can’t?” He stammered cutely. Betty resisted the urge to wipe Cheryl’s lipstick off his cheek

The scarlet haired vampire rolled her eyes, whirling away from them as if they weren’t worth her time. Jughead looked at Betty worriedly. “That wasn’t insensitive, was it?” He asked in concern.

“Not so much insensitive as incorrect,” Betty chimed, ignoring Jughead’s curious look as Reggie and Josie approached. 

“Damn, Jug! What happened to your neck? Attacked by a wolf?” Reggie snickered loudly.

Josie, Jughead and Betty all sighed in unison. 

 

…

…

…

As much as Jughead adored Betty, and adore her he did, he thought it wasn’t a terrible idea that they spend the afternoon apart. He’d had all of Sunday and most of Monday with her; they’d worked well together in biology and had lunch with the rest of them. She’d even eaten a slice of pizza to his amazement, though he thought he had detected glimmers of disgust here and there. 

But now, as he flopped onto his bed and kicked off his shoes, he was a little glad for the space. Betty needed to find Cheryl a present- something he needed to do too, and there were things that had to be done. Things that would probably be better without a vampire lurking around. It would have been easier to just go down to the Southside but apparently one of the effects of being grounded was that you couldn’t go wherever you pleased whenever you wanted.

“Jug!” FP’s voice called from downstairs; sounding pleased. “Toni’s here!” His dad gave some muffled instructions on how to find his room. 

Jughead nodded even though there was no one there to see it, clearing some papers off his desk as he heard the light, springy steps of his friend. Toni pushed open his door, whistling at his posters and dumping the thick stack of papers onto his desk. He stared at them in disbelief. “How is your treaty  _ this  _ long?” He exclaimed.

She flipped him the bird, idly walking about and taking everything in. “Oh, I don’t know, blame generations of trying to keep the peace?” She lifted the edge of his duvet and wrinkled her nose. “You really are in bed with them, aren’t you?”

He mimed zipping his lips. “I don’t talk to them about your wolfiness, I won’t talk to you about vampires if they happen to exist which I am not sure they do.”

Toni rolled her eyes but seemed a little pleased by the answer; climbing onto the bed.

Jughead reached for the papers, groaning at the weight of them. “Out of interest- what do  _ I  _ smell like? Just me. Don’t tell me if it’s awful.”

“You’re fine,” Toni grinned, getting comfortable. “Quite nice actually. Fragrant.”

He winced though he was a little relieved. “Shouldn’t it be more masculine than that? Where’s the smell of motor oil and toughness?” 

“Probably hiding along with your ‘toughness’.” He snorted; sticking his tongue out at her and coming to sit opposite her and placing the stack between them. They were both crossed legged on his mattress. He split the papers into two and set them side by side. “We’ll comb through this and see what we find. I’m not sure anyone’s ever read it in its entirety.” She said; nostalgia in her voice.

He saluted her. “It’s why you’re the alpha, ma’am.” 

She grinned, purple lips curving upwards. She was a splash of colour amidst his mostly grey-washed room, with her vibrant hair and dark skin, and he looked around, wondering if buying a throw would be too much. He was about to ask for her opinion, when her nose wrinkled again, and he wondered briefly whether Betty had such an aversion to Toni’s smell too. He’d try to watch out for it. “What is that smell?” She asked, cocking her head.

“I’m beginning to feel pretty self conscious about this you know-  _ gak-”  _ He was tugged forward, Toni’s hot hand on his neck and her other on the broach Cheryl had given him. She held it gingerly, eyes completely zoned in on it and pupils dilated. 

“Who gave you this?” She gasped, breath catching in her throat. 

He was held awkwardly in her grip, the desperate clutch of her fingers. “Uh, Cheryl Andrews-”

“Cheryl,” she whispered, her tone soft and breathless, almost loving.

Jughead swallowed hard when he realised. “Oh shit.”

Toni met his stare, nodding; the part of his sweater with the broach in it still fisted in her hand. “Exactly what I was thinking.  _ Oh shit.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments, as always, are the loveliest, most wonderful thing ever. You inspire me to keep writing and I am happy to announce that I actually know where this story is heading now! We're gonna have some evil vampires, some paper cuts at parties, some wolf-hating Cheryl trying to come to terms with love! 
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter didn't seem to have much in the way of actual substance, I struggled over it, but next time will be a roller-coaster of fun. Not for bughead though. Bughead are gonna be solid af. 
> 
> Again, thank you so so so so so much for your comments, seriously, every single word/kudos means the world to me. 
> 
> Keep 'em coming you wonderful beasts!
> 
>  
> 
> PS remember if there's something you'd like to see included in this fic, a little scene or just a small mention, lemmie know and I'll try to work it in! MWAH MWAH


	14. The BlueandGold Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead's being weird.
> 
> Toni and Cheryl meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Jughead was being weird. 

And not in his usual, charming way. He’d tossed and turned all night, mumbling too low for her to quite make out the words. Not to mention the fact that his room had  _ reeked  _ of Toni. Betty had instantly forgotten about her thirst in the wake of the jealousy as she realised Toni had been on his bed and had her hands on his shirt and on his neck. How familiar were they? And it wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jughead, but what was he doing consorting with a bunch of  _ wolves?  _ And one, very female one in particular? 

All morning too, he’d been jumpy and nervous. Now, as they sat in the  _ BlueandGold  _ room, Jughead typing out an article methodically; copying it out with corrections now made, Betty sat beside him and flickered her gaze between his profile and the rain outside. It had been pouring relentlessly, and all the students were bemoaning it. Riverdale was grey, but it wasn’t necessarily rainy. The girls had been huddled under various umbrellas, whilst Cheryl, Veronica and Polly- quite impervious to rain, had strode under the torrent together; fierce and undefeatable. 

Betty liked the rain. Rain meant safety. And it made Jughead smell  _ divine.  _ It brought out a new freshness to his scent and she took a deep breath; inhaling and savouring. Just because she wasn’t going to buy a flower didn’t mean she couldn’t sample the bouquet. 

Reggie and Josie were looking over Reggie’s latest article. Reggie’s thoughts were a rush of pride as they scanned over Jughead’s comments. He was taking the beanie-wearing boy’s word as gospel; truly trying to understand the criticism and beaming delightedly at every compliment. Josie too, was glowing with encouragement. Betty smiled softly at the two of them and their sweet thoughts for each other. They reminded her of Archie and Veronica. She knew humans were changeable and that they were young, but she hoped that Reggie and Josie stayed together: they were good for each other.

Jughead was gnawing at his bottom lip, and one hand flew up from the keys to fiddle with the spider broach that was now fastened to his plaid shirt. He was also wearing a leather jacket, which was enough to distract Betty who had seen it in his wardrobe but hadn’t realised how  _ good  _ he would look in it, but now her attention had wavered. The broach had the scent of Toni on it- not unusual considering it was beautiful and Toni had probably admired it- though maybe that  _ was  _ weird considering the fact it would have smelt of vampire and wolves were meant to find that as repelling as vampires found wolves. 

But now- Jughead had been fiddling with it all morning, the precious metals were imbued with his sweat. Something was clearly on his mind and Betty was becoming intensely frustrated by the fact she couldn’t read him. Why had he slept so badly? Why was he so worried? And  _ why  _ wasn’t he telling her about it? 

“Juggie,” she prompted, deciding to stop acting like a teenager and to be a little wiser. “Are you okay?”

He turned to her, eyes still a little glazed. “Hm?”

She gestured to where one of his hands was still faintly tapping across the keys. The same word now, for the fourth time.

He realised, yanking his hand away from both the typewriter and the broach in order to rake them through his hair. It dislodged his hat and knocked it to the ground. Betty reached for it, smoothing it over, but not handing it back. 

“Juggie,” she said again, cocking her head. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded, before shaking his head, and then nodding again. His eyes were slightly red from strain. She racked her brain for some homework assignment he may have been set that was stressing him out, but none of his peers had been worrying about anything. He turned his chair towards her, and she resisted the urge to smile. He was astoundingly comfortable in the old, battered teacher’s chair and she wondered if it was something he used to do at his old school. She straightened when she realised this movement meant he was about to confide in her. “I’m going to go home at lunch and get my motorbike.”

Betty stared; uncomprehending for a split second before her brain kicked into gear. “But- why? I can drive you home, or Reggie can, I’m not sure-”

“Betty,” he cut her off, eyes glittering green. He offered her a small smile. “It’s not a big deal-” his heart stuttered and she scoffed in disbelief that he was actually lying to her “-I just really need my motorbike.”

“But  _ why?”  _ She pressed, lifting her hand to stop him from answering too fast. “And remember that I can hear when you lie,” she added in a whisper, ensuring that Reggie and Josie wouldn’t be able to hear. 

Jughead struggled for a moment, before sighing and sagging in his seat. “Reggie’s gonna drive me home at lunch, I’m going to get my motorbike and we’ll both come back. And then- I have a free period last lesson, I’m going to use that time to go and pick up a friend on my bike and bring them here.” 

Betty frowned in confusion. “What? Why?” And  _ who?  _ It couldn’t be Toni since Riverdale High was far too into the Northside of the boundary for her to even dare. She didn’t realise Jughead knew that many other people, nor had she smelt the scent of anyone new on him. And why bring them back to school? 

He smiled at her, reaching out to bop her nose though his heart was still a little too fast. “You look really pretty when you’re confused.” 

She refused to let it distract her. “I don’t  _ understand.”  _ She confessed. “Just explain it-”

“Ethel!” He rejoiced happily, moving away from Betty and obviously grateful for the distraction. 

Betty heard it just before Ethel burst through the door and exclaimed: “Dilton Doiley just asked me to Winter Formal!”

_ Nice. Now Jug and Betty can go together.  _ “Whoo, Muggs!” Reggie clapped.

Jughead’s relief was palpable and Betty remembered how much he’d worried about it. “You two will look really great together, Ethel,” he said sincerely, and Ethel smiled. 

“Thanks you guys!”  _ Probably for the best. Jug was only ever a pipe dream- beside Dilton is so dreamy. He has the highest mark in math.  _

“We need to plan your outfits,” Josie called, her denim shirt a testament to her beauty in that she could pull it off. Besides, Reggie couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from where it dipped between her breasts. 

Betty turned to get back to her conversation, but Jughead was now fully immersed in the article. She gritted her teeth in frustration.   
  


 

Having Jughead and Reggie leave at lunchtime meant that she could either sit with her siblings or Kevin, Josie and Ethel. She wasn’t too sure what to do. Whilst she wanted to be friends with his friends, she knew she wasn’t as close with those three. 

Upon discerning that her siblings were being given step-by-step instructions for Chery’s party, Betty decided to be brave. All three humans were surprised by her decision, but she ignored their mental shock by focusing on pretending to eat the hotdog. Kevin soon got over her arrival, and went back to telling Ethel about his new boyfriend, but Josie lingered. 

_ I think she’s upset. So hard to read. I wonder if it’s because Jug’s gone. Does she think he’s cheating? Probably. I bet they’ve had sex. Oh they definitely have. Reggie should come over tonight.  _ “Betty,” Josie smiled coyly, leaning across the table. “You and Jug, huh?” 

Betty felt her heart constrict. This was so different from confiding in Veronica. This felt much more nerve-wracking. “Yeah,” she managed, setting down her hotdog and looking down at her legs. “I think we’re in a good place.” She was imagining sex with Jughead now. He’d be so hot, scorching her skin. It was probably best not to let her mind wander. Her control was good, but she knew that would end in death. 

“Mmhmm, cause there was some drama there, girl,” Josie said bluntly, lifting her dark, elegantly shaped eyebrows. “With him, not with him, back with him,” she waved her hand back and forth to demonstrate. “And those hickeys,” Josie giggled, before her brown eyes went down to Betty’s neck. “None on you? I totally pegged him as a softie.”

Betty did not think Jughead was a softie. He was rough- well, as rough as a human could be, and his hand on her waist always felt tethering and heated and he kissed her like he always wanted to be kissing her. Suddenly she  _ yearned  _ to be human just so he could mark her skin. She wanted to wear his bruises on her and parade his love bites. “What about Reggie?” She asked, eager to push the focus off her. “Does he..?” She wiggled her eyebrows, even though she’d already been given far too vivid flashes of her and Reggie’s sex life.

Josie took the bait easily, and started chattering. But she wasn’t deterred for long. She was apparently using her women’s intuition to see that Betty wasn’t quite feeling herself. “You really don’t need to worry,” she soothed, going with the theory in her head that Betty was worried about Jughead cheating on her. “He really likes you. He talks to Reggie about you all the time.” 

She smiled softly, feeling warm as the rain continued to thunder outside. She hoped Reggie and Jughead were safe on the roads, and longed to run after them. “I like him a lot too. I’ve um...invited him to meet my parents next week.” Josie raised her eyebrows and Betty rushed to continue. “I mean- it’s Cheryl’s birthday and we’re having a family thing, it’s not really that important-”

“Girl, relax,” Josie said slowly, and Betty shook her head in amazement of herself. How was she getting so flustered over things like this? She’d done so much in her long existence but getting approval from a teenager was enough to make her falter. “I think it’s good. Definitely a little fast for some couples, but not for you.”  _ They didn’t have sex. They made love.  _ She thought, and Betty tried to drown her out. Josie turned to look at the table of other Andrews, who all looked miserable bar Cheryl as she continued to lecture them. 

Betty didn’t mind it so much. It was one of the few times Cheryl could be genuinely happy: her birthday, so Betty never said anything to detract from her celebration. 

_ Little creepy though. Hope Jug doesn’t scare easy.  _

She bit back her smile. She certainly wasn’t losing her edge then, it was only Jughead who seemed impossible to scare. He scared her enough times with his constant accidents and slips. 

She trudged through the remainder of the day. She didn’t have any more classes with Jughead, but she did have history with Archie and they spent the lesson playing paper football. The teacher caught them one or two times, but apart from glaring, didn’t do anything about it.  _ Betty and Jughead sitting in a tree  _ Archie sang, snickering to himself and Betty kicked him under the table. “He said Veronica reminded him of Audrey Hepburn.” She whispered, far too low for any humans to hear. 

_ Ronnie will like that.  _ Archie thought happily, and Betty nodded.  _ I have a plan, anyway. What if we can get dad to get a blood sample from Jughead? Expose it to you when you’re far away from him. Build up your tolerance? _

“How would we get a blood sample?”

_ Check up? Say he wants to check that bump on the head? A blood drive? Whatever, dad could do it. _

It wasn’t a terrible idea. Betty tipped her head to let him know she was considering it. She dimly heard the sound of Reggie’s thoughts- too far away to properly make out, and knew that he was about to give Jughead his ride home. “Did Polly see anything today?” She asked, knowing that just the question would trigger Archie’s memories. 

The red-head winced, and Betty frowned. Polly had had a vision of Jughead then, but not told anyone what it was. Betty reached for Polly’s mind but cursed when she realised it was out of range. She must have left school then.  _ It can’t be serious  _ Archie assured her  _ or she would have told us. Trust her, Betty. He’ll be okay.  _

“You say that, Archie, but…” Betty swallowed thickly, “I may have underplayed just how involved with wolves he was.” 

Archie frowned.  _ What do you mean?  _

“I mean that he hangs out with them a lot- that one of them was in his bedroom yesterday and  _ on  _ him.”

_ You don’t think he… _

“No.” Betty said firmly, pleased as Archie’s thoughts of hurting Jughead dissipated. “But I do think there are lots of things he won’t tell me and I’m wondering if I should be more worried about all of this.” Was it even possible to worry  _ more  _ about Jughead?

_ They can’t pass the treaty line, though. We’re fine.  _

Betty shook her head. “I can’t fight the feeling that something about this is wrong.” 

Archie looked at her, before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.  _ Whatever it is. We can deal with it.  _ He thought confidently. Betty loved Archie for a great number of reasons. He was incredibly difficult to offend because he knew his own faults, he often spoke exactly what he thought, and he didn’t harbour any secrets. But he could be over-confident at times; certain that being a vampire solved all problems. His almost-arrogance didn’t soothe her as much as she knew he hoped it would. She could only stare at the clock and wait.   
  
  


The end of the day came, the school bell rang, and Betty stood beside her car along with all her siblings minus Polly. Cheryl was meant to be driving everyone else back, but Jason had informed them all of Betty’s worried mood and they’d decided to stick with her. Wherever Polly had gone, none of them knew, and Betty tried to relax. If this was dangerous, Polly would be here. Archie was right. She had to trust her. They certainly didn’t look inconspicuous all standing as a group, and the thoughts of those who passed them were fearful and curious. All so snowy white and pale. 

_ Don’t worry, B.  _ Veronica said, wrapping her arm around Betty’s shoulders.  _ It can’t be that bad.  _

Veronica was wrong. 

Betty gaped as Jughead pulled up on his motorbike. At least he was wearing his helmet, but the girl behind him, with the luscious magenta hair, was the allustrious Toni, and a wolf- but not only that, the Alpha of the Southside. She was more beautiful than Betty had feared, and her arms were wrapped tight around Jughead’s waist. Toni’s thoughts were a scrambled mess and slightly distorted- as always was the way with wolves, Betty could usually get the gist but this Alpha seemed to have excellent control of her mind. 

_ What the fuck is she?  _ Jason was thinking, recoiling away from the scent, and Betty knew Fred would have to explain this. 

“This is breaking the treaty.” Cheryl hissed, eyes alight with fire. “This is breaking the treaty! They’ve declared war!” 

_ Killing werewolves!  _ Archie celebrated victoriously. 

Betty watched as Jughead parked his bike, and tugged off his helmet. He avoided looking at her, at any of them, as he dipped his head and whispered to Toni. “The red head,” he said quietly, though all the vampires could hear him. 

Jason, Archie and Cheryl all stiffened. “Is your boyfriend betraying us right now, Betty dear?” Cheryl managed through gritted teeth, her body poised for attack. 

The blonde could barely understand it. What was happening?

“She’s beautiful.” Toni whispered, and her thoughts came clear and into focus. 

“Oh,” Betty whispered in realisation. Toni Topaz had just imprinted. She was too stunned to properly react, and Veronica dropped her phone when she saw the rainbow line between her sister and the werewolf. 

Jughead and Toni were walking towards them slowly, and Toni’s mind was a blur of adoration. Whatever Cheryl wanted, she would be. Her friend, her sister, her lover, anything and everything as long as she could be with her. Betty had never spoken to a wolf before, never seen the intensity of the bond. It was beautiful and petrifying. Jughead was now looking at them too; guilt etched onto his face as he made eye-contact with Betty apologetically. “Heeey,” he managed, half waving. At their stony silence, he sighed and turned to Toni. “Guys, this is Toni Topaz. She’s-”

Cheryl gasped in dismay when she realised. “You  _ filthy  _ mongrel!” She began, and Archie, Veronica and Jughead murmured  _ shit  _ under their breaths. “You have not just imprinted on  _ me!”  _

Toni’s thoughts were becoming confused, and she took a step back at the hostility even though all she wanted to do was come forward and comfort her. “Cheryl,” Jughead began softly, one hand on the small of Toni’s back. “You’re soulmates.”

“He’s right, Cheryl,” Veronica said gently, “I can see it.” 

Cheryl ignored both of them, instead stepping forward and looking down at Toni. “You  _ cretin.  _ You are not allowed to be on this side of the border.” She prodded Toni’s shoulder hard, and on any human the pressure would have been enough to shatter bone. As it was, Toni just stared right back up at her. Betty could hear her thoughts. She was torn between tiptoeing and kissing Cheryl right on the mouth; being ferociously attracted to her, and also slapping her so hard she pictured Cheryl flying across the lott. 

She did neither. Instead lifting her chin and hardening her jaw. “You should read the Treaty. Wolves have the exception if they’ve imprinted on someone who lives on the Northside and have an escort.” She motioned to Jughead with a tilt of her head.  _ Clever  _ Veronica thought, and Betty echoed the sentiment. The broach made sense now. 

Cheryl was shaking with barley contained anger, and Betty and Jason reached forward to get hold of her arms. The contact looked gentle, but was actually rock solid.  _ I am not mated to that  _ _ dog.  _ _ I’d rather die alone.  _ “Come on,” Jason whispered, but Cheryl refused to budge. 

“The treaty does not say that.” She spat angrily.

Jughead stepped forward, putting his fragile self stupidly between Toni and Cheryl. Betty growled low in her throat, and Archie and Veronica stepped forward to flank her protectively. “It does actually.” He said in a low, even voice. He turned to Betty. “Tell her that Toni’s her soulmate.”

Betty wavered. “She knows, Jughead.”

He frowned. “But then- why-”

“Because I’m a wolf.” Toni scoffed, shaking her head. “I managed to get over it, Cheryl. We were made for each other-”

“Don’t address me!” The beautiful vampire all but screamed.

“Are you serious?” Jughead exclaimed, pushing further still. He leaned into Cheryl’s face and Betty couldn’t bear it- she pushed forward and nudged Jughead back a little. He ignored her intervention. “You’re going to dismiss her? Because of something as stupid as this? How shallow are you?” He snapped. Jason hissed Jughead’s name warningly, feeling the waning of Cheryl’s control. “This is  _ love.  _ I mean-” he let out a humourless laugh, “you haven’t even got to know her! She’s absolutely amazing!”

_ She doesn’t want me. I can’t- she actually doesn’t want me.  _ Toni was beginning to realise, the pain inside her moving up to an excruciating level. Even Jason was wincing as it radiated off her. “C’mon, Jug,” she said quietly, wanting nothing more than to get away from Cheryl. She tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. “Let’s go.” 

He wasn’t as ready to give up. They were beginning to cause a scene. Reggie who had just exited the science building had spotted what was happening in the distance, and was heading over- intent on fighting. “No! Betty,” Jughead looked at her, eyes bewildered. “They’re soulmates! Tell her!”

_ Who’s that short girl? She’s hot  _

_ Omg fight fight fight! _

_ There is something wrong with those Andrews kids. _

_ I hope Jughead’s okay. Maybe I should get Dilton to talk to him man-to-man. _

_ Why won’t it start? Dad’s gonna kill me. _

Betty’s brain was a flood of the thoughts around her, and she could only shake her head. “She’s a  _ wolf,  _ Jug,” she whispered, flinching at the look of betrayal he shot her. She’d never seen such a relationship in all her eyes of existence. It couldn’t be lawful. 

He backed away from all of them, shaking his head in disbelief. Toni twined their fingers together; desperate for the contact. Her wolf was still longing for Cheryl but her human side was quickly moving to hatred. “I can’t believe this, Betts.” Juhead croaked.

“Jug-”

“No.” He snapped, just as Reggie reached them. The broader human was relieved the fight interaction seemed to be ending, and he was a mountain of support on Jughead’s other side. “Betty, don’t. I’ll message you if I want to talk, okay?”

_ They look like monsters.  _ Reggie noticed dimly, and Betty saw through his eyes the way her clan looked. Her and Jason still holding Cheryl back, Archie and Veronica around Betty looking scarily intimidating. Jason seemed to be noticing too, as he was exuding calm as powerfully as he could.

Betty watched as Reggie, Jughead and Toni were led away and longed to go after them- but Cheryl’s thoughts were still furious, and she stayed with her family. 

…

…

…

Jughead lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling with the phone on his chest. He was still angry on Toni’s behalf. She’d come back to his and just  _ cried.  _ He was so furious- annoyed at the prejudice that couldn’t be set aside for one second. Who cared if one was a wolf and the other was a vampire? It didn’t  _ matter.  _ They were meant to be together, and if Toni had been willing to try, then why hadn’t Cheryl? And why hadn’t Betty even  _ tried?  _ Unless she felt the same way. 

He let out a controlled sigh. He’d never bunked school before, but tomorrow he’d miss all of his Wednesday lessons to go down to the Southside. Toni needed him. 

But he...he needed Betty.

He reached for his phone, just as his dad stopped in his open doorway. “Hey, boy,” he said gently. “Was Toni okay?”

Jughead turned to look at his dad, craning his neck over the pillows. “No. But...I was thinking about skipping school tomorrow? To go and see her? Is that- I know I’m grounded but-”

“You suck at breaking the rules,” FP chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “Go and see her. What was it that had her so down? Nothing wrong with her grandpa is there?” 

“No, just...some school stuff,” Jughead mumbled; the low evening light casting eerie half shadows across his room. “Dad,” he called, just before FP shut the door. “Are there ever born enemies?” 

FP leaned against the wall, taking a moment, before shaking his head. “No human is born hating another human.” He said sagely. “But animals, I guess? Lions and antelopes. Hell, even plants.”

Jughead hummed thoughtfully, spinning his phone in his fingers. “I saw this thing on facebook once. When a mother lion nursed this baby lamb.”

His dad chuckled. “Exceptions to every rule.”

“Especially when people have morals and can  _ think  _ instead of blindly responding to gut instinct. Right?”

“Uh...yeah?” FP tried, confusedly. “You getting an early night?” 

“Might call Reggie,” Jughead lied, and his dad nodded, bidding him goodnight before shutting the door. 

He stared at his phone for a long moment; angry and annoyed, but knowing that taking it out on Betty like this probably wasn’t the best way to do it. He texted her.  **Can you come over?** And he startled at the knock on glass, and couldn’t help his smile at the sight of his girlfriend easing her way in through the window. “You were here already, weren’t you?” He asked, as she walked towards the bed. He watched her face carefully, and noted the wince at what was presumably the scent of Toni. Jughead wondered if she could smell the tears. He couldn’t smell anything but Toni’s fading perfume and he was grateful for it.

“Guilty,” Betty said quietly, shuffling onto the bed and leaning towards him. “I’m going to kiss you,” she murmured, and their lips pressed together. 

It was tremendously difficult to remember that he wanted to talk to her when they touched like this. He felt her cold fingers trace ever-so-gently across his cheek, before they pulled away. He opened his mouth to speak, before clearing his throat dazedly. “I uh- I think we should talk?”

“I think so too.” Betty nodded, eyes sharp. Her hair was a little bit frazzled, not as perfect as always, and he tried to imagine what it had been like when she got home. Cheryl seemed like someone not to go up against- even as a vampire. “You know, Polly can’t see when you hang out with wolves. It’s like your future just disappears. They completely block her view.” 

Jughead blinked in surprise. “Oh?” 

“Yes.” Betty said, tone hard. “So can you imagine my surprise when I see that your future for tomorrow has completely disappeared and then I hear you ask your dad to go and see her? Jughead, werewolves are  _ dangerous.”  _

He waved her off. “No more dangerous than vampires, and I’m doing just fine. That’s not what I wanted to talk about though.” Betty frowned, looking as if she wanted to keep debating this, but said nothing.

But it  _ was  _ useful information. She was keeping closer tabs on him than he thought. Polly would know when he made a decision, so if he stuck to Toni, he’d be able to keep their plans for talking to the wolf-elders a secret. It was nice to know, however how much she worried about him. 

“Betts,” he began with a sigh, reaching forward to take one of her hands in his. She was so cold, he wrapped both of of his around her palm, trying to transfer his heat even though it wouldn’t make a difference to her. “You can’t hate someone because they’re a werewolf.” 

She immediately straightened next to him. “I don’t...I don’t  _ hate  _ Toni. Not anymore.” 

“I may not be able to hear your heart, but I know you’re lying.” 

“My heart doesn’t beat.” She pointed out, but he continued.

“It’s not okay. She’s my friend. I don’t want- I’m not going to be around people who judge my friends. Not like that. If you were here then you heard me talk to my dad and you know that you can overcome your differences.” Would he give Betty up over it? Certainly not. But he would at least try to get his friend to be treated the way she deserved. He scanned his eyes over her; she was so beautiful it almost hurt. Even with her hair in slight disarray, her pink sweater and black leggings hugged her figure and he wanted nothing more than to graze his teeth along her jaw.

Betty seemed to struggle with it for a moment, before nodding, looking remorseful. “You’re right. I know. I’ll...try.”

“And you’ll talk to Cheryl too?” He pressed.

Betty bit her bottom lip reluctantly. “I don’t know about that-”

“That’s fine. I’ll just do it next week at her party.” He said easily, feeling better already. Talking to Cheryl may be daunting, but it wasn't impossible. Besides, she'd given him the broach. That had to mean that she respected him at least a little.

His vampire shook her head immediately, eyes wide and alarmed. “Don’t do that, Jug! You have no idea how angry she is!”

“You think she’ll hurt me?” He asked seriously, a little bit incredulously, and Betty wavered; considering her answer.

“She might accidentally hurt you, but not if all of us were there.” She admitted.

“Then you can all be there. I trust you. It’s either you talk to her or I will.” 

Betty moaned in despair, flopping forward to bury her face into his pillow. He rubbed her back comfortingly. “I’ll do it then,” she groaned. “But please don’t go to Southside tomorrow. I can’t keep you safe.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but he could hear her worry regardless.

He lay beside her, propped onto his side and blew hot air into her ear so she flinched away. “That’s not a deal I’ll make, but there  _ is  _ a deal I’ll make.” 

She peeked out at him curiously. “What?” 

“I’ll take you to Winter Formal.” 

She frowned. “You  _ want  _ to go to Winter Formal.” 

“True. But I’ll let Polly choose what I wear, and I do believe you owe her for saving my life the other night.” He offered. He did want to take Betty to the Winter Formal though. The idea of her on his arm looking as exquisite as always had a very vain appeal. 

Betty huffed a reluctant laugh. “It’s not a bad idea, actually.” 

“Do we have a deal?” He beamed, brushing her hair behind her ear so he could see more of her face. She shuffled to face him properly, nodding. 

“Deal.”

“Good.” He grinned. “I’m going to kiss you now.”   
  
  


“And did you see that hair? Like the  _ devil.”  _ Toni growled, tossing another pebble into the water. It sank immediately, and she threw another in frustration. It skipped the water twice, before plunging away. Jughead whistled. She got serious distance. But werewolf strength was technically cheating, so he didn’t feel too bad about it. It was a warm day despite the dark blue hue of the sky and the heavy hanging clouds, and he was briefly worried for a moment over what work was being set. But then- Reggie would send him everything he needed, and Ethel would too. Her notes would actually be legible.

He adjusted his position on the rock, watching as Toni searched for another smooth shell. He held out one he’d found for her. “Yeah, but did you see her? She’s smoking hot.” He said casually.

Toni whirled to him, before wilting at his grin. “She is  _ so  _ hot.” She admitted with a whine, coming to sit beside him. “What am I supposed to do? I’m all cried out and my soulmate thinks I’m disgusting.” 

“She’s wrong.” Jughead said determinedly, wrapping his arm around her. It was jarring how small she felt in his arms, knowing that she could destroy him with less than a flinch. “Completely wrong. I’m gonna get Betty to get her to see that. She’ll be  _ begging  _ for you to take her back when I’m through.” He finished confidently.

The dark-skinned girl half smiled, though her eyes were still sad. 

Jughead pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Come on, wolfie,” he sighed. “Let’s keep combing through that treaty. You’ve got a pack to achieve peace for.” 

She took his hand, hauling herself up and dusting the sand off her black jeans. “You’re a part of that pack,” she insisted. “We’ll work at Sweet Pea’s. He and Fangs are eager to make it up to you. For you know, punching you in the face." Jughead rolled his eyes. "But seriously, Jug. I'm the alpha and I say you're in, so you're in. Sweet Pea and Fangs like you, and they appreciate you. We wish you'd spend more time down here. But I know- there's someone keeping you up there."

They headed down the beach together; the waves crashing distantly beside them. “That means a lot,” he admitted, “and let me tell you- when you and Cheryl are a thing, because you will be a thing, vampires they…” he shook his head wistfully. “They need a lot of love, okay? They don’t always see themselves very clearly.” 

Betty had more soul than anyone he knew. She saw herself so distortedly it scared him. 

Toni nodded, taking it in. “You’re the expert of vampire/non-vampire relationships after all.”

Jughead shrugged. “I consider myself something of a genius, yes.” 

She laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment you lovely beasts! x


	15. The Yellow Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead meets the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

_ Not to say that I haven’t changed my mind a lot, because I have. I first told you not to take the eighty years. I wanted you to change him, and now I’m wondering whether eighty years is going to be enough because you’re my sister and I love you and I don’t want you to die  _ Veronica was thinking, directing all her thought straight at Betty, even whilst she added glitter to the photo collage she and Archie had been making for Cheryl’s birthday. The special day was tomorrow and Betty hoped her gift wouldn’t be misconstrued. Veronica and Archie’s collage was a thing of beauty, lined in fine glass and in a thick, black frame made of an ash wood from Cheryl’s home town. 

Betty’s own gift was hidden in her room downstairs. Cheryl, throughout the lengthy relationship she and Betty had shared, had always had a magnificent mind. Shallow sometimes? Certainly. Self-centred? More often than not. But she was thoughtful and precise and perceptive and saw the world around her in a very particular way. She was capable of depth and selflessness to an extent that contradicted who she could appear so much of the time. Like most of them, her running internal monologue was insightful, but also beautiful. Betty, being privileged enough to hear some of these thoughts, had typed them all out and had them bound in a book of poems. 

It was a risky decision. Cheryl had never been fond of the fact that Betty could dip into her mind whenever she wanted, and the invasion of privacy may prove too much for her to be able to enjoy the gift. Polly had forseen Cheryl’s reaction last night, but it was still blurry around the edges so Betty wasn’t so sure. It had been a relief, however, to see Polly again. She’d apologised profusely for not being there when Jughead had brought Toni across the treaty-line, but the wolves were her blindspot and she had gone travelling to see if other wolf/vampire bonds existed. 

She hadn’t found any. 

The sun shone in through the attic, and Betty watched as Veronica sparkled like the diamonds she had begun embedding into the frame. “What do you think about Cheryl and Toni?” She whispered, too quiet for Cheryl to hear from downstairs. 

Her raven-haired sister pursed her lips thoughtfully.  _ Their potential bond is true-mates. But whether or not they can have that is up to Cheryl.  _ Veronica didn’t seem too bothered by it, in truth, she was more focused on Betty and Jughead’s blossoming romance.  _ Sooooo meeting the family tomorrow. Is he excited?  _

Betty half smiled, smoothing her hand against the work table and collecting the shavings at the edge of the bench. “I think so. Hard to tell. At least Polly hasn’t seen any disasters. Even Jason seems like he’s going to be fine.” 

_ And it gives mom and dad the chance to use the kitchen. He likes to eat, right? Because I swear they’re preparing a feast. It’s like they’re trying to cram all those years they couldn’t cook into the space of one day.  _ Veronica thought happily. 

Betty laughed. It was sweet though, to witness the family coming together to make things as comfortable for Jughead as possible. Even Cheryl, through her venomous haze of confused anger, had helped shop for fresh ingredients. Speaking of which, Betty knew she’d have to talk to her sister. She stood up, leaving Veronica to her crafting, before heading downstairs to see Cheryl. Jughead had been right about the way they’d treated Toni, and being called out on it was a harsh, but honest reality. Instincts would always render vampires immediately uncomfortable with shifters, but that could be overcome. Vampires were immediately uncomfortable with humans when not allowed to kill them, but that too could be overcome. 

“Cheryl?” Betty called through the door. Cheryl’s mind was slow, lethargically moving through a novel. She’d recircled back to Dickens. 

“Yes?” 

Betty pushed the door open, and immediately understood why Jason had gone with Archie to hunt. Jason would have been able to keenly  _ feel  _ the torment that Cheryl was in. It was surely too much to bear. “Cheryl,” she whispered, taking her in. She was lying on her bed, the book splayed open on her chest, clad in a bright yellow jumper and a matching yellow mini-skirt. The most vibrant, optimistic thing in her wardrobe; she’d hoped it would uplift her mood. It wasn’t working. “How are you?"

“You already know,” she snapped without any heat. “How can my mate be that-”

“Cheryl,” Betty cut her off, voice tight. “I know you may not want to hear what I’m going to say but I’m going to say it anyway.” She took a breath even though she didn’t need it. “I read Toni’s mind and Veronica’s seen your bond- it’s real. I know she’s a shifter, and I know we’re programmed to hate them, but you’ve been connected because you’re good for one another. She already loves you. Come on, Cheryl. We’ve both been so lonely for so long, and I know our love is coming from an unconventional place so it’s harder for us than for the others, but...but that doesn’t mean it isn’t as real, or as precious. It took so long for me to get Jughead, for us to be in a good place, but I’m so much happier for it, and I love you and I want you to have that. She’s imprinted on you. It doesn’t matter what she is, she’s...she’s yours.” 

_ I would have preferred a human to a mutt.  _ Cheryl thought, but there was no hostility in her voice; just a sad resignation. She’d condemned herself to a life of loneliness. She thought it was the universe’s idea of a joke. All she’d yearned for was someone to love, and now the only person she was meant for, was someone she was going to reject. “You should go see your human, Betty,” she whispered, swallowing thickly and turning to her book. 

Did this count as keeping her promise to Jughead? She wasn’t sure. But scanning Cheryl’s mind showed no more space for any more input, so she did as her sister suggested, and went to see her human. It was nice for a grey day that Saturday as she stepped out. She hadn’t seen Jughead last night- he’d been across the treaty most evenings this week and he came back now smelling of other pack members aside from Toni. Sleepovers, it appeared, were still things that teenagers did. Betty wondered briefly whether it was just helping Toni through heartache that kept him down there. More often than not there would be the lingering smell of dust and papers. Schoolwork? Libraries, perhaps? Betty didn’t know, and Jughead didn’t like talking about it, so she didn’t want to press it. 

On approaching the Jones house she detected from the lack of heartbeats that it was empty, and FP’s truck was gone. She followed the trail curiously until she reached a small diner a few blocks away. She’d never been inside herself, but it was layered heavily in FP’s scent, so he had obviously been coming here for many years. She peaked in through the glass, but couldn’t see through the small hubbub of patrons, so she sat neatly on one of the benches at the bus stop, and dipped into the mind of one of the waitresses; a kindly woman named Valerie. 

Valerie held the coffee pot, heading over to give a refill. Betty beamed at the sight of Jughead through Valerie’s eyes. He and his dad were sitting at a table in the corner, a large lunch spread out between them. It was a pleasant surprise to see him in a vibrant yellow sweater- nearly the same shade as Cheryl’s, and it brought a toned hue to his normally very pale skin. It was a few sizes too large, and she’d never seen it before- it also smelt very, very strongly of FP. She laughed to herself, startling the elderly woman beside her at the stop, at the thought of Jughead spilling something all over himself. 

FP’s thoughts were a trickling stream heard only from a distance. There was a pleased buzz around them: he was content here with Jughead by his side, and she caught glimmers of the word  _ Southside  _ a few times- he was probably happy Jughead had been spending so much time down there recently. Jughead looked happy too, munching away on a piece of fried bread and glugging on orange juice. The food all looked disgustingly repulsive to Betty, but FP kept sliding extras onto Jughead’s already full plate. She thought she caught the faintest whisper of  _ too thin  _ but it was too murky to be sure. 

Jughead was on the slim side though, and she was grateful for his dad to help give him more strength. Valerie poured some freshly steamed coffee into FP’s mug. “Is this your boy, FP?” She asked happily, her eyes roaming over Jughead who flushed as his dad lay a proud hand on his shoulder. 

“Sure is, Val. Jug, this is Val. I’ve known her for...how long would you say it was now?” 

“About damn near ten years,” she laughed deeply, a warm sound that made Betty all the more partial towards her.  _ A few years after you left that demon wife of yours.  _ She added silently, her memories shifting to younger looking FP, with hunched over shoulders, beaten down posture and rimmed-red eyes. He’d come into the diner all alone, sat in the corner and tried to keep it all together. Betty had never seen such a memory, and she felt a new sense of intimacy for the man. It made the fact that she knew he didn’t like her, all the more painful. “The infamous Jughead Jones,” she whistled, “your pop talked about you non-stop, you know that?” 

Betty smiled, covering it with her hand so as not to scare the woman beside her, as Jughead flushed deeply. “There are much more interesting things.” He said quietly. He was  _ shy.  _

Valerie laughed. “I don’t think so, sugar. Let me get you a milkshake, on the house. The prodigal son returns! You like Riverdale?”  _ He looks so much like his papa! What a handsome young man. I’m sure he’s causing quite the stir at school.  _ The blonde vampire snorted quietly to herself, Valerie certainly had her finger on the pulse. 

“It’s good,” Jughead nodded, scooping some scrambled egg onto his fork. “Much better than Phoenix.” 

A swell of relief and joy filled FP’s face. Was he still uncertain? Betty wondered. After just a month of being here, Jughead had never once spoken about missing Phoenix or any part of his life there. He’d settled into Riverdale as if he had always been made to come here. 

She left them to their lunch, and headed to Jughead’s room. The scent of him was less of a blow; more of a familiar pain. An old wound throbbing. A signifcant improvement. There was a small box lying on the desk atop some brown paper and next to some scissors and string. Cheryl’s present, no doubt. Betty skipped over to it, eager to see what Jughead had bought her. Polly had done well keeping it from her, and Betty hadn’t thought to ask. 

She lifted the lid off the little periwinkle box and let out a small scoff of surprise, and then another scoff at the fact she was even surprised. It should be no surprise to her by now that Jughead was both intelligent and thoughtful. The pair of gold hoops were early twentieth century, and she was certain Cheryl would love them. They were of her time, after all. But Betty worried how much had been spent- if he’d bought it at a charity shop or a thrift store, maybe about a hundred dollars. People tended not to know the value of rusty, old jewellery. But either way, wasn’t that too much for him to be spending? She really had no knowledge of their financial situation, nor how much was too much or not enough. She set everything back neatly, before lying on the bed, soaking in his appetising scent, and waiting.   
  


 

“Betty!” Jughead exclaimed happily, and she opened her eyes, grinning. She’d heard him gallumph up the stairs with all the grace of an elephant, just waiting to see his reaction to her. His heart skipped a beat, and he shut the door behind him, bounding over to her excitedly. “You’re here!” 

How it was still a surprise to him, amazed her. Didn’t he realise he had her forever? She sat up, and he climbed onto the bed beside her. “You look lovely in yellow,” she commented, plcuking at the sweater. “Like a sunflower.”

Jughead snorted, reaching up a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. His fingers left a trail of heat along her cheek. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, as he did before each kiss, reaching in to peck her lips. He lingered longer than normal, probably noticing that her eyes were very light today. He pulled away with a grin. “You’re one to talk. You’re a vision of buttercup.” He trailed his hand down to her shoulder, where she looked down to see the big yellow daffodils that dotted her white sundress. She laughed in amazement. 

“I hadn’t even realised,” she breathed, happy that they were matching. She could hardly wait for Winter Formal. The thought of Jughead in a tux, with their arms together- of a slow dance under the lights. Her first real prom with a boyfriend. 

“Of course you hadn’t,” Jughead chuckled, flopping down into the sheets and rubbing his stomach. “You have no concept of self. You have no self awareness. Hey wait-” he scrunched his nose up, “can you see yourself in the mirror? Is that why you don’t know how beautiful you are?”

His tone was genuine, and Betty collapsed beside him bashfully. “We can see our reflections. That’s just a vampire myth.” 

He pouted. “So no coffins at your house tomorrow?” 

“No coffins.” 

“And no-” he cut himself off, turning to look at her. “Wait- have I ever seen you in sunlight?” He racked his brain for a moment, before reaching out to grab her hand. “Would you turn to ash?” He whispered, terror in his eyes. 

Betty laughed musically, immeasurably fond. “No. We just...I can show you tomorrow, actually. Speaking of; how are you feeling?” 

Jughead let out a puff of air, examining the ceiling. “Petrified. Excited. I feel like there’s a lot of pressure, too.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “And if by some miracle it goes well, I think I should reintroduce you to my dad. You know, as my…” he blushed, “girlfriend.”

Betty beamed, but then winced. “He really doesn’t like me, does he?” She asked, rubbing her thumb ever so gently across his palm. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Jughead insisted. “If you do, I’ll start freaking out that your family hate me because you risked exposure for me.” He squeezed her hand and she giggled, rolling her eyes. 

“That’s a pretty fair deal. And Cheryl is going to love your present.” 

“Hmm,” he frowned doubtfully, “I’ll only believe you if Polly saw it. Did she tell you we got an A?” 

“Yes she did, my little brainiac.” A’s were fairly common in the Andrews house hold, but Polly had been particularly proud of this one. She still saw, solid as stone, the good friendship that she and Jughead would have. “Oh and make sure you don’t eat anything tomorrow or you might explode at mine.” 

“Now  _ that  _ sounds fantastic.”

…

…

…

His girlfriend is dazzling.

And not just in the sense that girlfriends can be dazzling, in that she actually sparkles. The rainbow glitters and dances off the diamonds reflected on her skin. They’d set off a little early, and reached a gorgeous clearing up in the woods- a section he had never known existed. Considerng the fact that Betty had carried him up through intense, dense, almost vertical shrubbery, he doubted anyone else knew it existed either. The ferny forest gave way to wildflowers and peonies, the foliage gave way to the blue sky, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen it so sunny in Riverdale. He pushed his sweater sleeves up to his elbow, taking a small, enchanted step towards her. “You’re so beautiful,” he choked, eyes wide.

Betty smiled, though it looked sad at the corners. Jughead hated that she hated being reminded of what she was. “We’re well adapted to our cause. If a human saw this glittering, beautiful being in a field…”

“They’d come closer,” Jughead finished, doing just that. The sun seeped into his skin, warming him in a way that was kind and familiar. He reached out to touch Betty’s hand; the diamond's vast array of glittering made it look sharp to the touch, but it was just as smooth as it was the last time. “Is this why you chose Riverdale?” He asked, the pieces clicking together. The only other time it had been sunny- Betty hadn’t even come to school. 

“Yes. We like it best the more normal we can be.” Betty stared down at her own skin and then where his hand was still touching hers. “Are you sure you’re not freaked out by this? I mean, about any of it? You are about to go into a house full of vampires all by yourself.” 

Jughead wondered if it should sound daunting. It didn’t, though. “I’m not alone,” he pointed out, “I’m with you.” 

She made a face like she thought his answer didn’t constitute as much, but he’d come to expect that. She wasn’t seeing herself right. Whilst he could do nothing but stare. She was in a long, lavender dress, and her hair was half up, half down, and it trickled down her neck in long, honey spun curls of gold. Her eyes, still light, molten amber like yesterday, were staring at the grass.  He sighed loudly, tugging off his satchel and laying it on the ground, before sitting down beside it. He patted the spot beside him. “I wish you could read my mind.” 

Betty was beside him in an instant, her eyes wide and curious. “Why? You like that I can’t.” 

He grinned at her blatant questioning. She was a puzzle to him, but he liked being a puzzle to her. He hoped it meant she would stick around. “Because.” He said, dragging it out just to tease her, before he looped an arm over her shoulders. “Then you could see yourself the way I see you. I think you’ve got it all wrong in your head.”

She lay her head on his shoulders, staring out at the daisies and the hyacinths. She didn’t say anything for a long while, before she spoke again. “You should be careful in there. Polly didn’t see anything happening, but Jason is really new. I know this might be especially difficult for you, but try not to cut yourself. I’m not sure what would happen.” 

“You worry too much.”

“You don’t worry enough,” she insisted.

“Only because you’re doing it for the both fo us,” he murmured gently, wary at her tone. She  _ was  _ tremendously worried. Maybe he should be more scared than he was except- well, he’d never seen any of them hurt anyone before. Not purposely, at least. He was having trouble even picturing it. These vampires were a lot different to the ones that the old Southside legends had written about. For now, he was happy enough to put his faith in the girl- or woman, he loved. The thought of love set him on the thought train towards Toni. “Did you get the chance to talk to Cheryl?” 

“I did, but she…”

“It’s alright.” Jughead sighed, “and I’m sorry if I was harsh about it before. I just want Toni to be as happy as I am.” 

“And I want Cheryl to be as happy as I am.” 

Jughead lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her cold skin gently. “It’ll work itself out,” he whispered. Toni was the most determined person he knew, and she wanted Cheryl- and she’d get her in the end, he was certain of it.

  
  


The Andrews house was something he could never have imagined. A marvel, glass structure embossed within the trees. Obviously custom made, a huge white platform reared off to the right, which Jughead assumed was the roof for an underground carpark. Large red doors jutted out as invitation, and it went up quite high- the glass melting into the leaves of the treetop and perfectly reflecting the sky, so he wasn’t quite sure where it ended. His talk of not being scared disappeared as they went up the front steps. The place was huge, and what if they didn’t like him? Archie and Veronica had already talked to him once- in an incident that hadn’t ended well. Cheryl had given him the broach- the one he was currently wearing (for maximum points) and Polly had been an enthusiastc history partner. He hoped he got the chance to work with her again. As for Jason, well- it was weird. When Jason had helped take Reggie and Josie out on that almost-fateful night, Jughead had been both apprehnsive and thankful, but they’d barely exchanged more than a few words with each other. Mr Andrews had seemed the most approachable of all the Andrews’- aside from Betty, of course- and he hoped Mrs Andrews would be similar. 

Betty squeezed his arm reassuringly- her touch much lighter than Reggie's would have been, she was so careful around him, and he tried to smile, as she pushed open the door. 

It was astonishingly warm and light inside- he’d pictured something much darker and colder, but he relished the heat. The furniture was artistically chosen, gorgeous in a way that even his untrained eye could see. Huge portraits hung across walls that were all load bearing- open plan was the obvious design here. The glass walls made the seperation between inside and outside disappear, and Jughead leaned further into Betty as the two of them stepped into the kitchen area, to see all of the vampires. 

They were truly startling together. Jughead struggled to take them all in. Archie and Veronica were elbows deep in some sort of spaghetti, Jason and Polly were laying the dining table as Cheryl handed them plates (plural? Were they going to pretend to eat with him?), and Fred with a brown haired woman, presumably, Mrs Andrews, were taking a gigantic chicken out of the oven, complete with roast potatoes and carrots and parsnips. It smelt delicious. They were all so pale and white and graceful. 

“Mom, dad, guys,” Betty greeted, “this is my boyfriend; Jughead,” 

He felt his heart beat harder at her words, and he half waved at them, feeling woefully inadequate to be standing next to this gorgeous being. “Jughead,” Mr Andrews smiled, laying the tray from the oven on the counter. He wasn’t wearing any gloves and Jughead nearly yelped a warning, before catching his tongue as he realised it wouldn’t be needed. 

Jason snickered- oh right. Emotions. Maybe he’d felt Jughead’s panic. 

“It’s great to see you again. Healed up fine?” Fred continued.

He nodded, swallowing thickly. “Uh yes, Sir. Thanks,” He managed nervously, nodding as Mr Andrews informed him to call him Fred. Hermione stepped forward. She didn’t hold out her hand for him to shake, which he was gratful for. She was astoundingly beautiful, in a maroon dress with her long, chocolate tresses. “Hi,” he whispered, intimidated even though he was much taller than her. 

“Jughead,” she smiled, saying his name like a caress. “I’m so happy you’re now in Betty’s life. I’ve never seen her so happy, and I have you to thank for it.” 

He could feel his face go nearly scarlet, and he ran his free hand through his hair. “Uh she-” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “she makes me happy too,” he said, severely under-rating it. Betty took him to a different level of joy. 

Hermione smiled like she knew what he was getting at, and he wondered what his heartbeat sounded like for all of them. Archie and Veronica stepped forward next; as a unit, and he flinched just a little. His chest hurt just looking at Archie’s giant arms. “Jughead,” Veronica began in an airy voice. “We’d like to apologise for that english assignment. Blame Betty. She warned us to stay away from you. If it was up to us, we'd have been a group.” 

“Veronica.” Betty hissed, and Jughead laughed in relief. 

_ Oh.  _ “Oh, that’s why you guys were so weird. I didn’t realise,” he waved off her apologies. “It’s fine, guys. And Archie, I have your…” he opened his satchel, lifting the puffy coat that Archie had draped over his arms weeks ago. “Sorry for keeping it for so long.”

“No worries, man,” Archie said easily, taking it and draping it over one of the dining table chairs. “And sorry about hurting you- I’m not used to being gentle around humans, but it wasn’t…” he slid his eyes away guiltily. “It wasn’t cool.” 

What did it say about his life that this group of vampires were kinder than most of the humans he’d ever known? “Archie,” he said sincerely, “don’t feel sorry. I fall over all the time, it was an accident, and I think vampire or not- colliding into you…” he gestured to the muscles of the red-head and laughed, “that’s just life.” 

Archie’s smile was wide and genuine, and Jughead liked him immediately. 

Polly seemed to sense it was her turn, and unlike everyone else, one second she was at the table, the next she was hugging Jughead. He flinched hard in surprise at her sudden appearance, and heard Betty growl beside him, before he could respond and wrap his arms around her nervously. He shivered at her cold, and she ducked away apologetically. “Sorry! Hi, Jug,” she beamed, amber eyes sparkling and he nodded, still a little startled at the proximity. “I know we’re going to be best friends some day, so forgive me for not being like the rest of them and staying away. Even dad.” She eyed their father sternly, “he could be right here, but he thinks you need space. I don’t think that.” 

“Uh…”

“Anyway,” Polly pecked his cheek, “I can’t wait till you’re one of us.”

Jughead blanched. “Till I’m  _ what?”  _

“Polly!” Betty and Fred snapped at the same time. The blonde didn’t look particularly admonished, but looked pointedly at her sister.

“What? He’s going to be. Why shouldn’t he know?”

Be- one of them? Was that possible? Betty’s story had made it seem as if only those who were dying could be turned- and the legends from the Southside seemed to condemn it as an evil thing, which meant that dying was the only justifiable cause, right? It had never even  _occurred_ to him. It stunned him to his core. What did that mean? If Polly had seen it, then it was going to happen. But Betty so loathed what they were- surely she’d be staunchly against it- but Polly had  _ seen  _ it. He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging his elbows with uncertainty. Why hadn’t Betty said anything?

“Jason!” Betty snarled, touching Jughead’s shoulder as Fred came over. 

Jason stood to attention. “He’s- freaking out- panicking.”

“I’m fine,” Jughead murmured, frowning as Fred tipped his chin up in his fingers and looked into his eyes. 

“Your heart’s going a little fast,” Fred said soothingly, in his wonderful bed-side manner. “Just a little surprised. Polly,” he gave her a look, “perhaps information like that is best given when people are eased into it. Not everyone has the same comfort with the future as you, sweetheart.” 

Polly pressed her lips together apologetically, stepping back. Jughead rubbed his neck embarassedly, deciding to file his questions away for later. He didn’t look at Betty, instead turning to Jason and Cheryl to finish the introduction. Jason made absolutely no move to come closer to him, in fact, he stood furthest away. Held tightly, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as if it was a struggle. It reminded him vaguely of Betty the first time he’d ever met her. “Nice to meet you formally.” Jason said through gritted teeth. He managed a small smile. 

Jughead dropped the hand from his neck when he realised Jason’s eyes were following it, and crammed it into his pocket. “You too. Thanks for saving my life, and- and Polly too. And…” he smiled at the sight of Cheryl; poised and perfect in a black, silk shirt and black jeans. “Happy birthday,” he both congratulated, and read off her shirt. 

She smiled, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I forgive you for what happened last time we met, Jughead. Try not to spoil things with nasty surprises like that again, though,” 

Ah. She wasn’t too happy about the Toni stunt then. No matter. At least he was forgiven. He looked around as they started loading food onto the table, only just realising there was a number of other meals he hadn’t even seen. He choked a laugh of disbelief at the sight of it all, and Hermione touched his shoulder. “I’m afraid we got terribly excited, Jughead. I hope you’re hungry.” 

He sat at the table beside Betty, and nodded, already salivating at the thought. “Always.”

“Great!” Polly chirped, taking a seat. “And then we can start celebrating Cheryl’s birthday! It’s also going to thunder tonight, if anyone’s up for baseball?” 

Cheryl clapped her hands eagerly. “This is gonna be a great day. Obviously. It’s in celebration of  _ me.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, who will be at the baseball game..... *dun dun dun*
> 
> Your comments, as always, make me happier than a rainbow!
> 
> mwah mwah x


	16. The Burgundy Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheryl's birthday continues. Two new vampires come to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long, I've been remiss and I'm sorry. 
> 
> Here I am, if you'll have me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Jughead frowns when he feels coldness move against his forehead, and he scrunches his nose a little, before he hears Betty whisper: “Polly!” in irritation. He blinks awake, startling as he realises he’s fallen asleep on their sofa- right in the middle of the day, and that there are seven vampires staring at him. He jerks upright, flushing in embarrassment, and is relieved to find Betty sitting beside him. “Sorry,” she whispers, trying to soothe him, “you fell asleep just after lunch.” 

Oh yes. He remembers that. He’d been stuffed full of the most delicious food, and could hardly keep his eyes open. Meats and spaghetti and a million other dishes he’d never even known existed. He’d truly gorged himself. He winced, turning to Cheryl apologetically. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Betty cut him off, “we’re not celebrating till tonight and Cheryl, along with everyone else-” she shot glares to all her siblings, “-were having a wonderful time watching you sleep.”

Before Jughead can even consider the humiliation of whether he’s been talking through his nap, Hermione spoke up in her soft, refined voice. “For all of us but Fred, seeing someone sleep is something we’ve not witnessed for a very long time. I think it made all of us remember being human for a while, and what it means to truly rest. We’re all sorry for making you uncomfortable. You just looked so peaceful.” 

She brings a sense of compassion to the situation. He noticed then, the hints of sadness on their faces, and he nodded. “No, it’s-it’s alright.” He manages. They’re all so  _ still  _ here where they’re comfortable. Not pretending for anyone. They sparkle whenever they walk through a sunbeam, but when they’re just standing still, they may as well be statues. They never fidget or squirm and it’s slightly unnerving. He wonders how he’d feel about never being able to sleep, on the one hand; productivity, on the other,  _ sleep.  _

“Betty was getting upset because I was thinking that you are very cute when you’re dozing. I can see why she watches you.” Veronica smirked, winking with one of her smoky eyelids.

Jughead blinked as he comprehended the words. “Watches me?”

“Yeah, when you sleep. Ever since you moved here.” Veronica continued, “You know-oh. You...didn’t know…”

He tries to school his reaction. He knew Betty often stayed the night in bed with him, and that she couldn’t sleep, but she’d been coming to his room before that? Just to watch him sleep? The thought was a little daunting. Why hadn’t she told him? If she’d been coming to his room when he wasn’t aware- did that also mean- “have you been taking my tees?” He blurted, watching as Betty ducked her head in shame. 

“I really would have preferred to tell you all of this myself,” she muttered with chargin, glaring at her siblings. 

He laughed, shaking his head in amazement. She really was as smitten with him as he was with her. As the others started setting up for the party, he and Betty went to her room, and he didn’t try to hide his curiosity. He immediately launches himself over to her shelves and is unsurprised to see purely vinyl in the music section. His girlfriend makes it perfectly clear what she thinks of modern music. He scans over the books, tempted to run his fingers across the spines but resisting because some of them look really old and are probably insanely valuable. He doesn’t think Betty would mind too much, considering how she seems to disregard money, but still.

One of the walls in her bedroom is just glass, and looks out into the forest. The view’s breathtaking, and he’s slightly winded by it, before Betty’s arms wrap around his waist from behind, and her chin rests on his shoulder. He stiffens, happy she’s initiated the contact but not wanting to make her uncomfortable. She sighs, and he relaxes into her. “Do you think they liked me?” He asks, admiring the long sweep of a dark chocolate branch as it arches towards the sky. 

“They loved you. I promise.” Comes her musical voice, and he twists a little in her grip. Her gold eyes look up at him and he frowns. She reads it in his face. “I guess you’ve found out a lot today that in an ideal world, I might not have told you. I’m sorry about watching you sleep, it was a complete inv-”

“Betty,” he snorts, cutting her off. Her hands are still on his hips, and he reaches one of his own to touch her cool cheek. “I don’t care about that. Honestly. I was more thinking about what Polly said.” 

She stiffens imperceptibly. “Polly was wrong.” She says firmly. 

He sighs, but humours her for a moment. “Has Polly ever been wrong before?”

Betty falters, before stubbornly persisting. “Her visions are subjective. Sometimes she’ll have more than one on a certain topic, so yes. Sometimes her visions are wrong, and others are right.” 

“Is there a vision of us staying together where I’m human?” He inquires gently, lowering his voice. 

Betty pulls away from him, hugging herself. “Not as many as there used to be.” She confesses. He can see how difficult this is for her, but he needs her to know. 

“I don’t see you, or your kind, the way you do, Betty. I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t  _ mind.”  _ And he really wouldn’t. He doesn’t  _ want  _ it, but he doesn’t not want it. They may not have known each other that long, but he knows already that Betty is his soulmate and the chance of eternity with her is something he wants. What he doesn’t want is to give up family, or normal food, or his friends. He loves his dad and Reggie too much for that. But eventually...eventually he’s going to have to change, won’t he? To be with her? He’s not sure he likes the idea of being thirty years old with a girl who looks seventeen on his arm. How old would he go? Maybe twenty-five. He has a fairly young face. He rubs up and down her arm consolingly. “And I thought a relationship was about being equals. Don’t you want me on your level?”

She glares at him without too much heat. “I am  _ far  _ below you.” She mutters.

He sighs. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you? For the both of us? We’d be able to…” he raises his eyebrows suggestively. The thought of being intimate with Betty is something that consumes a lot of his thoughts lately. He may be willing to give his right arm for it.

“I’m not doing that to you.” She insists determinedly.

A thought occurs to him. “Wait- what would happen if I died?”

The way she slides her eyes away tells him what her mouth doesn’t.

“Betty!” He hisses, suddenly furious. He spins away from her in distress, but the peaceful view of the trees doesn’t do justice to his anger so he whirls back again to her neat bedroom and rakes his hands through his hair. “No! What the hell- you can’t be serious!” He knows the vampires downstairs can probably hear him, but he can’t control himself. 

Gold eyes meet his. “I’d never be complete again without you. It would be a half existence.” She responds calmly, as if she’s thought this over. 

He pulls her in for a hug, tight and completely human without any fear or worry that she could crush his ribcage. He’s not sure how else to convey the depth of his love for her. One hand around her waist, the other cupping the back of her head. It’s hard to reconcile her affirmations with Polly’s vision. Polly’s so self-assured, and he has a lot of faith in her. It’s not that he doesn’t think Betty doesn’t know what she wants, it’s just that he knows that a lot changes as time goes by. Even for a vampire. It’s scary, their love for each other. The things they would do for one another. He feels her lips move, the sound muffled against his sweater, and he pulls back to look down at her. They’re so close together they could kiss, but instead, he examines the arch of her perfect, dark blonde eyebrows, and waits for her to speak. 

She huffs a laugh that makes him smile, because she sounds more fond than exasperated. “I’m not sure whether or not I’m relieved or disappointed that you don’t want to be one of us. It makes some things harder, and some things easier. I kept imagining a voting scenario, and you were never on my side. But now I think you might be.” 

He scrunches up his nose. “I’d be a ‘no’ for right now, but it’s an inevitability, Betty.” 

She continues like she hasn’t heard him. “Me, you for no. Maybe dad, especially if you’re voting no. He’s not going to convince you to do something you don’t want to do. Hermione, Jason and Cheryl want you to be turned, and so does Polly. Archie and Veronica, I’m not so sure. They’ll want your opinions to be respected, but they also want me to stay with them for as long as possible.” 

Does she really think that this will reside on a vote? And why doesn’t his dad get a vote? He’s not sure how the Andrews family works, so he decides to shelf the conversation for now. “Is it getting easier to be with me?” He asks, and she beams like she’s proud of herself, and he is too. He kisses her nose with a sense of fearlessness. 

“You’re delectable, but I love your brain more.” She informs him proudly, pulling away and tugging him towards the made bed. He has the sudden image of her lying here, not sleeping, in his tees. A jolt of lust bolts straight through him, and Betty touches his chest, obviously hearing the jump of his heart. “What?” She teases, and he blushes.

“I’d like to see you in my clothes sometime,” he admits, and quick as a flash- Betty’s gone from his side, and then is back immediately, hair a little frazzled, but gone is her lovely lilac dress and in its place is his tee. He stares, lips parted in awe. Her long, white legs are bare, and his tee is a little long on her, but not long enough to keep his eyes away. “You- I-” he can’t come up with words. She looks so good in his clothes, something very primal inside him feels a rush of satisfaction. He kisses her, because it’s all he can do, and the fear is back. He would do anything for her, he knows it. And she would do anything for him. 

She pulls away, pecking his cheek as she does so. “I have a present for you,” she beams, eyes sparkling and pink lips spread into a smile.

“It’s Cheryl’s birthday,” he reminds her diligently, as she rolls her eyes and reaches into one of the drawers by her bed. She pulls out a small box, and hands it to him. “I know boys don’t usually wear them, but I thought you might make an exception for me.”

“Betty,” he sighs, tugging off the ribbon. “Now I feel bad that I didn’t get you anything-”

“You are enough of a gift.” She decrees merrily, clapping eagerly for him to open the box.

He lifts off the lid and blinks in surprise. It’s a silver bracelet with a single charm. A sparkling, ice white diamond heart. It’s very feminine, something he could picture on a girl’s wrist, but he knows what this means. He knows what the cold heart represents, and he holds his hand out, barely breathing as Betty fastens it around his left wrist. After it’s on, he holds the charm very carefully between his fingers. He wishes furiously he brought something for her, because this moment feels significant. Heavy and memorable. “It’s beautiful, Betty.” 

“Symbolic metaphors,” she shrugs casually, winking. “I’m a fan.” 

He kisses her again. 

…

…

…

“Oh my god,” Jughead wheezes, collapsing off Betty’s back and landing with a thud in the grass. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” 

Betty beams fondly, watching as the rest off her family start setting up the bases. Everyone’s in a gloriously good mood, and their thoughts are awash with happiness. Cheryl, for the first time in a few days, seems content. She’d loved her presents from everyone- Betty’s included- and relished being the centre of attention. Polly had braided Cheryl’s hair back into an intricate plait of complex scarlet, strewn in with flowers and poppies. Everyone was kitted out in white uniforms. Everyone was eager to play, aside from Jughead, who had been adorably pleased to find out that he wouldn’t be participating. The uniforms were all white with burgundy stripes along the side. Designed by Hermione and Cheryl, they were both flattering and easy to run in. “Come on, you fragile little human,” she teased, reaching down to hall her boyfriend up. 

The dark, grey clouds had hurriedly crawled over the sky, leaving a trail of fine white light. Cheryl was pitching, as per her birthday right, with Polly batting first and the rest of the family spanned out far into the dark, emerald fields. Veronica, Jason, Hermione and Fred were stationed at each base, whilst Archie darted excitedly from each edge- excited and competitive to play. 

As soon as Polly thwacked the special, metal bat against the ball, it was fun to watch the way Jughead’s mouth dropped open. The crack of thunder seamlessly blending with the sound of the hit, and the way his eyes struggled to watch as Archie clambered up a tree, and launched himself into the air to catch the ball. He gasped outright when Jason and Hermione collided hard, the sounds of their bodies smacking together sounding a lot more brutal than either of them would have felt. 

Betty likes baseball, though she’s not as much of an enthusiast as Cheryl and Archie. It is fun and definitely a form of release that they can’t have in gym class. She hovers near Jughead for most of the game, beaming when he claps or whistles. Archie’s thoughts are smug and he’s showing off a little for Jughead. Her boyfriend does seem to be rooting for Archie over everyone else- though Betty’s not surprised. Archie can be a very good showman. On cue, Jughead hollers from beside her, clapping his hands and cheering Archie’s name as he leaps into the air to catch Polly’s swing. 

He looks good in the white. He’s clearly uncomfortable in the attire, but he fits in with them. They’re part of a team. He’s part of her family. It makes her cold heart burn fiercely. And everytime he leaps and cheers, the crystal heart on his wrist glitters. 

She feels so lucky. 

Today might just be one of the best days of her life. And she’s had a long one. Cheryl had adored her earrings from Jughead, had loved Betty’s gift of the poems, and had she been capable, would definitely have blushed under the love and attention. Veronica had unfortunately discovered the mutilation of her steering wheel, and was playing rather viciously and aiming suspiciously often in Betty’s direction, but Betty could read her thoughts.

All was forgiven. 

_ This is what life is about.  _ Fred thought, wheezing as Jason knocked the wind out of him in an attempt to catch the ball.  _ Family.  _

Betty agreed tremendously, admiring the visions of white and maroon as they race around her.

“Stop!” Polly yells suddenly, and all of them freeze on cue. A command from Polly is one to pay attention to. Betty swallows hard as she watches the vision flash before Polly’s eyes. Two vampires. A matter of seconds. “Vampires are coming. Two of them. They heard our game.” She’s speaking too low for Jughead to hear, which Betty is grateful for. He still makes a sound of curiosity beside her. 

“What are their intentions?” Fred asks, ever the diplomat. He’s beside them in an instant, his eyes crinkled with concern. 

Polly hesitates, but is telling the truth when she says: “they just want to play.” 

Betty grabs Jughead’s arm and he frowns. “Is there time-”

“No.” Polly warns her with wide eyes. Betty wants to curse the sky and scream but there isn’t time. No day is ever a good day. No day can be. Not with monsters in the world. And now Jughead is here and it’s because of her and-

“Two against eight? They don’t stand a chance.” Jason jeers and Archie fist pumps the air.

“It won’t be a fight,” Fred murmurs, though his eyes flicker over to Jughead’s worriedly.  _ It’s a shame he’s here. We should have done a better job scouting the area.  _ He doesn’t think his next thought directly, but Betty can hear it regardless. Fred knows that if things do turn sour, eight does beat two. He’s blaming himself for this, but Betty knows it’s all her fault. 

Jughead swallows thickly, and they all look at him. His heart’s beating faster and Betty rubs his arm as soothingly as she can. She doesn’t know how to make this okay. “What’s happening?” 

“Some vampires are coming,” Betty says as calmly as she can, “it’s too late to get you out of here but they don’t seem to be looking for trouble so everything’s going to be alright.” She wills herself to believe it. His shamrock eyes meet hers, as if searching them for something. She wonders what he’s trying to see. He’s scared- but she’s never known him to be scared of vampires. Ah. He’s scared by their reactions. They’re freaking out. He’s never seen them freak out. 

_ He’s so pale they might mistake him for one of us.  _ Hermione thinks distantly, and Betty looks at Jughead more closely and critically. It’s true. Especially in the white light of the field he looks very pale. His skin like parchment. His dark hair only contrasts it better. And he’s dressed like them too. But his eyes are so  _ green _ . Gold can be explained, but the green is a dead giveaway of a human. Along with his scent. Enticing and a clear sign. “If the wind doesn’t change, they may not be able to smell him. We’ll invite them to play because you, Jughead and Jason were just heading home. Then you two take him to safety.” Hermione instructs to Betty, Jughead and Jason. 

Jason stands to attention at being given his orders, and is already working on projecting lethargy to the two vampires.  _ Yes ma’am  _ he thinks instinctively, already assigning Jughead the role of  _ innocent civilian  _ that needs to be protected.

“Keep your eyes down, Juggie,” Betty whispers, linking their fingers together. To keep him calm but also to ground herself. The heat of his fingers becomes a focal point. He wants to do nothing more than scoop him up and run. She can be states away in a few hours. He can be safe. A thought occurs to her dimly. Will he ever be safe again now that she’s in his life? She ignores it for now. “On the grass, okay?” She continues. He nods obediently, fear in his gaze. Her heart pangs for him.

“They’re here.” Polly announces fearfully. She’s seeing different ways of the scenario playing out, but there are thousands of them and none seem more likely than the other.  

And there on the edge of the clearing, two vampires appear. They emerge out of the thick brush of tall, dark pine trees, as two visions of white. Their eyes are blood red and they sweep across the green. Barefoot and wild-looking, it’s clear they haven’t been in civilisation for some time. Betty tries to gauge how much time has passed them by, but their thoughts are a blur. Penny and Malachai. Mates.  _ The yellow eyes. The stories are true  _ The blonde thinks, a little sulkily. Ah, Betty realises. She’s lost a bet. The male’s thoughts are no more worrying.  _ A game! Haven’t played a proper game in ages, what a good idea! And large enough for two teams.  _

The blonde vampire can feel herself relax. They aren’t here to do harm. 

“Peace, friend!” Malachai calls, clearly the leader and more well-versed in vampire etiquette than Betty had thought. “We were merely passing through! We heard your game. I’m Malachai, and this is my mate: Penny.” 

_ They seem okay  _ Hermione thinks tentatively.

_ He calls himself a vampire?  _ Archie snickers internally. 

_ Penny needs a fucking shower. She’s a total mess. He’s not so bad, though.  _ Cheryl thinks, cocking her head as she examines them. Betty agrees with her on some distant level, but is taking the situation too seriously to dwell on such opinions. Veronica though, is not.  _ Oh my god look at her hair! Has she ever heard of a hairbrush?  _

Their clothes are rags, and their eyes crimson. Jason is admiring the redness longingly.  _ They’ve recently fed. Real food.  _

“It’s good to meet you. I’m Fred.” Fred beams, stepping forward. “This is my family; Veronica and Archie, Brian and Betty, Polly and Jason, my lovely wife Hermione, and actually, my daughter Cheryl…” he gestured to the red-head, drawing the attention towards her. Cheryl preened under it typically, cocking her hips and twirling the bat in her hand. “It’s her birthday. This game is a celebration.” 

Betty loves her father. Brian is a lot more conspicuous than Jughead. The grouped naming. The attention on Cheryl. It’s genius. Her own thoughts are far too scattered to perform any semblance of protective-housekeeping. She’s clutched with fear. And Jughead has been brilliantly still beside her. No gasps or unneeded sounds. It’s only to her that his heartbeat seems too loud. No one else is paying attention. She watches how her clan looks through Penny and Malachai’s eyes. They’re barely scanning over all of them. They’re not looking to make lasting friends. 

“Many happy returns,” Malachai congratulates Cheryl, a little bemusedly.  _ Family? Birthday? Wife? How odd. That Cheryl is gorgeous. And mateless. Maybe I should trade up.  _ “Are you okay for two more players?”

Penny barely resists rolling her eyes.  _ Ugh who cares?  _ She’s thinking. Bored already. It’s good, Betty thinks. Penny’s barely paying attention to proceedings. Maybe she can pry her fingernails out of her stone palm. 

“Actually, perfect timing,” Fred smiles happily, “Jason, Brian and Betty are just heading off, so we’re in need for a few more players.”

Malachai spreads his arms cheerily. “We are happy to oblige-”

A cool breeze, a small ruffle through the trees, blows through the group. From Jughead to the nomads. Betty doesn’t think. She just acts. She shoves him behind her, and suddenly Veronica and Cheryl are there flanking her sides.

Nobody moves after that for a while, but Penny and Malachai suddenly look a lot more interested. “What this?” Penny grins, eyes honed in on Jughead. “You brought a snack?”  _ Mmm, he smells good. He’d make an excellent meal.  _

Malachai laughs, and Betty grits her teeth as she gets a glimpse into his mind. A tracker. He’s picturing hunting Jughead. He’s picturing the thousands of others he’s hunted before. He loves the thrill of the chase, and the prospect of a meal being guarded by eight vampires is appealing to him. He’s getting excited. “This is new,” he snarls with pleasure, crouching a little as if he’s preparing to attack. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”  _ He smells delectable. Maybe the best I’ve ever smelt. Not one to kill slowly. Should keep the blood as hot as possible.  _ Before Betty can snap his neck-

“The boy is with us.” Fred says firmly, voice low and stern. All trace of pleasantries gone. “We are happy to have a game with you, but the boy is with us. You are not to harm him.” He pauses, to let his words sink in. “We could be friends.” 

Penny sneers at him, her eyes locked on Jughead who’s pressing himself against Betty, his heart jumping a mile a minute. “We don’t want to be your friend.” She hisses, cowering only when Jason steps forward and draws attention to himself. 

Penny leans away a little, and Malachai realises it too. They are too many of them. Eight is a fun hunt but all eight of them at once is a fight he won’t win. Veronica flashes her teeth, pulling herself out from where Archie was standing before her protectively. “I can see bonds,” Veronica smirks towards Penny. “He doesn’t love you.” It’s not a physical blow, but it’s just as effective as one. 

_ I suppose that’s better  _ Fred thinks reluctantly. 

_ That’s my girl  _ Archie thinks, slightly aroused. 

The vampire with dirty blonde, matted hair glares viciously through messy bangs. “I’ll kill you,” she snarls, clenching her jaw.

“Shut up, Penny,” Malachai snaps, and a pang of hurt hits Penny in the gut. Betty can hear all the insecurity and worry, as Penny backs off in confusion.  _ We can take them.  _ She thinks deludedly. Whining.  _ They’re just vampires, we’ve killed vampires before. _

They have no powers. Malachai is good at tracking, but it’s not a power, and Penny is...Betty tosses the word around in her head. Penny is useless. 

“Of course,” Malachai grins widely, taking a polite step back. “We’ll be on our way.”  _ I’m gonna kill that kid. I’ve got his scent. It’s gonna be good. Blood like that is for drinking. _

They disappear back into the brush where they came from, before Betty scoops Jughead up into her arms. He yelps a little, even paler than before. “We have to go,” she cries, delirious with fear, “we have to get him out of here. Malachai is a tracker and he has Jughead’s scent-”

“He has to go to the Southside,” Veronica interrupts, and Betty makes a wounded noise. The raven-haired vampire continues on sympathetically, but with a tone of no-nonsense. “I’m serious, B. If he is a tracker, he can follow us anywhere but he won’t break a treaty, not with all the wolves over on the Southside. Take him there.”

“The wolves aren’t strong enough-”

“Yes they are,” Veronica insists, “they were literally made to do kill vampires. And there is a whole pack of them on the Southside.”

“Betty can’t take him there,” Fred murmurs remindingly. “That would be breaking the treaty.”  _ As regrettable as it is. I’m sorry, Betty.  _

“I can go myself,” Jughead mutters, but his words are low and his lips are nearly blue. He’s going into shock. He’s petrified and- Betty can see the pain that Jason sees coming off Jughead, and she lessens her hold on him immediately. He sighs in her arms with relief. He’s so fragile. So soft and so breakable. She looks down at him, but his eyes won’t focus.   _ His emotions are haywire  _ Jason thinks; concerned.  _ This can’t be good for a human.  _

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” she whispers, clutching him. “I’m so sorry, Juggie, I’m so sorry-”

He opens his mouth to reassure her, but words fail him. 

_ We should turn him.  _ Archie thinks suddenly. “We could turn him,” is what he says. 

They all stiffen. Veronica agrees. Fred doesn’t. The others don’t know where to stand, but they think it would be easier. 

Betty makes a sound that resembles a heart breaking. Those are the choices? Death or death? Torture or eternal monster? She can't do that to him- she already has done that to him. She has already condemned him to a fate of pain or pain, of loss or loss, and all for her own selfish need. 

“I can take him.” Cheryl swallows thickly. “Stand guard with him. I’m an exception to the treaty rule. I’d have to see Toni, but...I can do it without damage.” 

_ Yes. That’s a good idea.  _ Fred nods approvingly, but Betty shakes her head. “No. No, he can’t go there. The wolves and one vampire can’t protect him- and Polly won’t be able to see him anymore-”

“Toni won’t care,” Jughead manages, teeth chattering. Fred examines him worriedly.  _ The poor boy. This is too much.  _ “She won’t care-”

“We’re not breaking a treaty,” Fred says as gently as he can. “There are too many ramifications.”  _ I’ve seen the result of them first hand.  _ “Cheryl will take Jughead to the Alpha. Only for a time,” he amends, for Betty’s benefit, “and then we’ll try to proceed. We’ll come up with a plan, okay?” Hermione nods encouragingly beside him. As always, they present a united front. 

Betty sobs loudly as Cheryl eases Jughead from her. He goes limply without much protest. As soon as he’s out of her arms she can’t bear it. “No, no, I have to stay with him-” she can see what Malachai wants to do. All the ways of death and it’s all her fault and she never should have brought him here-

_ Betty.  _ Cheryl thinks, cradling Jughead who looks like he’s still trying to understand everything that happened. Her long red tresses fall into his face, and her perfect lipstick and gorgeous face are ready and capable.   _ I’ve got this. I’ve got him. I won’t let anything happen to him. Do you trust me? _

 

It may be Cheryl’s birthday, but it’s the scarlet haired vampire that gives the best gift of all. 

Betty nods. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dunnnnnnnn
> 
> lemmie know what you thought, lovelies! 
> 
>  
> 
> mwah mwah xxx 
> 
>  
> 
> PS if there's anything you'd like included in the final chapter- you let me know, okay? I'll try to work it in mwah x

**Author's Note:**

> Comment? ;) 
> 
> MWAH x


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